


Hate Me (Sometimes)

by i_m_disappeared



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex is a popular jock, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Divorce, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Henry is an Emo Kid, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_m_disappeared/pseuds/i_m_disappeared
Summary: Imagine over the last three years your life has gone to absolute shit. And to top it all off you get taken away the last good thing, your home, your comfort zone, and get shipped off to the US. It's hell.That's exactly what Henry thinks when his mother decides it's a great idea to move them to Texas, of all places, for his last year of school. He does not want a change of scenery. He does not want to be the new gay emo kid nobody ever talked to. And he certainly does not want to develop feelings for an idiotic guy he actually hates very much.Henry is not amused. He has absolutely no desire to go to high school in Texas. He has no desire to meet new people and start over new. But he is given no choice.And maybe he finds something special in a place and with people he would have never expected.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 52
Kudos: 66





	1. Welcome to the Black Parade

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the dark side, everyone. 
> 
> "What if Henry was not a prince, but your typical emo kid?" "I don't quite know where this thought came from, but I couldn't let it go again. So I took the common high school AU scenario, added tons of teenage angst, black clothes and nailpolish and some of the finest songs from the pop punk and emo days of the early 2000s and voilà. This happened. 
> 
> To make the whole experience complete I created a playlist for this.  
> You can find it [over here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4x6KifpRve4JVAWrpPhPRT) and I will update it as the story proceeds. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this little time travel as much as I do writing it. 
> 
> A short disclaimer about the rating: I decided to choose 'Mature' because this will include some heavier topics like mental health issues and homophobia. I try not to make it too angsty/ find some balance, but to be safe (also language-wise) I decided to rather rate it a bit higher than too low. It will also eventually touch upon sexual situations, but I haven't decided yet how on page I want that to be. If I decide to go explicit I will definitely change the rating (and as I always do put a warning in front of the chapters where it happens.)

Why did Mondays even exist? Nobody ever liked them and still they happened over and over again, every bloody week. Even worse than just a regular Monday was when it happened to be the beginning of the schoolyear. Add being the new kid at an entirely unfamiliar school in the middle of Nowhere, Texas instead of your home in London and ready was the ice cream bowl made of pure shit, complete with sprinkles, sauce and all. Henry was in a mood, but he was unwilling to reflect and maybe realize it was all just half bad.  
  
Instead he put his finger to the volume buttons of his new car’s hi-fi system, cranking up _The Hell Song_ to the max. It was fitting after all: a hell song for a hell day. The car was actually not really new, but a used blue Honda Civic that had already seen better days, but to him it was. And he was not sure they were ever becoming friends. Or whether the thing could keep his already desolate state when it was him driving it.  
  
Henry had never been too fond of cars. He preferred his tube that brought him anywhere he wanted and all he had to do was getting in, instead of having to perform massive brain exercise in the early morning already. Public transport was a blessing. It was also apparently uncharted territory in this part of the world, so he had to drive, if he wanted or not.  
  
So here he was behind the wheel of this hell machine – fitting the topic of the day – cursing each and every decision he had made in his life that must have led him to this horrible point. Also, automatic cars were scary. Henry did not trust them at all and really needed to work on his feeling for the accelerator and break pedals. At the moment it was still a bit bumpy.  
  
Despite his unwillingness to ever arrive at school and the fight with his vehicle, sooner or later Johnson High loomed in the distance. He had been here with Bea once, when she had forced him to get to know the neighbourhood, only convincing him by getting giant pizzas and milkshakes in a cute diner around the corner afterwards.  
  
The building wasn’t exactly prettier the second time around. It was a huge concrete complex, pale buildings over pale buildings extending into the far distance. Nothing compared to the picturesque manor house his former school was located in. Even though, the nice scenery was the only thing really worth remembering from there, he was strangely missing it at the moment. It apparently needed a move to the US of fucking A to make him appreciate his previous situation. Too late.  
  
Apart from the overall appearance of the school there was a second major difference: it was huge. He could not remember how many people were going there but judging from the sheer number of cars in the carpark it had to be ten times the students of his old school.  
  
Or everybody was driving a car with each of their arse cheeks, who knew. Could be a very important type of freedom anchored in some futile amendment as far as he was informed. Okay he _was_ in a mood, yes. But making cynical remarks to himself was better than the other option his brain provided: curling up on the spot, regardless of being in the middle of the road, and never stopping to cry again.  
  
His bad temper was not improving upon realising that the abundance of cars did not only mean the automobile industry was apparently doing fairly well around here, fuck climate change and such, but also that there was absolutely no parking space left. Especially none that was appropriate for his non-existent skills.  
  
Fuck. He was not an unpunctual person at all, but he definitely had reckoned without hitting literally every traceable red light in this area, so he was not exactly early. And if he ever found a parking spot at all, he’d still had to make his way to class without knowing any directions. In twenty minutes. Maybe crying was in fact the better option.  
  
It took him ten endless minutes driving around that stupidly humongous carpark until he finally found a space broad enough for his not really broad car behind some shed-like construction, approximately fifteen hundred miles from the main building. Splendid! At least he was getting today’s workout in early by having to sprint to his class. He couldn’t ask for more.  
  
Maybe, he should work on his internal sassiness because the universe was really having it out for him today and him constantly cursing it probably had a bit to do with it. Just as he backed out of the spot a fraction, to at least try and fix the horribly awry parking job he’d done, the absolute shitshow that was currently his life decided to run the season finale.  
  
_Thump._  
  
No. No! This was _not_ happening. He was _not_ crashing against something on his first day. Hectically, he shut off the ignition, brutally stifling the ear-shattering music mid-chorus and practically dove out of the car to check if it was bad. It was not. It was absolutely disastrous. He in fact had not hit something. He had hit some _one_. He had managed to overrun a person. With a car. On his very first day. There were rocky starts into new life situations. And there was Tartarus.  
  
Panic flooding over his entire body he moved toward the person crouching on the pavement. He did not hurt them, right? He did not really harm somebody just because he was a horrible driver and distracted and an idiot? When the person moved – okay, moving was a good sign, right? It was not too bad, right? – he realized it was a guy about his age.  
  
And not just any guy. Henry was not exaggerating when he assumed this was the most attractive guy he would find in this entire school. Maybe the entire state. Looking at any other men not necessary. He had Pez’s voice in his ear, prompting him to hit on all the hot American blokes. He probably had not meant it like _this_.  
  
“Fuck! Shit! Are you okay?” He probably should’ve said sorry, shouldn’t he? Was that underwhelming when you hit someone with a car? Probably. But what was appropriate when there was a chance you seriously harmed another person unwillingly and out of sheer stupidity? Yeah, sorry could at least have been a start. But he was given no chance to still get it in.  
  
The guy looked up at him with an unreadable expression, scanning his form from the extremely worn out vans on his feet over very skinny very ripped black jeans, an equally black t-shirt proclaiming the ironically fitting words _‘I’m not okay_ ’ in blood-red letters up to the black beanie covering the sandy blonde hair, spilling into an artful side fringe onto his forehead. He felt exposed. And he was suddenly thankful he did not risk going all out on day one and instead test the waters of how much nail polish and eyeliner this school could handle, first.

He would’ve felt even more uncomfortable under this condescending glance by Mr Captain-Of-Whichever-Sports-Team-They-Loved-Around-Here in his even less assimilated form, as much as he judged himself for even taking different forms into consideration. It was sometimes exhausting to be your true self when the world apparently was not approving of that. And he still had it very easy compared to what other people had to endure, as he was an able-bodied, rather well off white cis guy. He knew that.  
  
It still was shitty to be categorized into approximately five different unflattering boxes at once by All-American Golden Boy, the Prom King himself who probably already planned to marry the girl he was dating since they were twelve, having two point five children and never leaving this backwater until he died. But of course, Henry himself was not stereotyping at all. Hopefully, one of the boxes he found himself put in by his counterpart was “ _Horrible Hypocrite_ ”.  
  
“ _Am I okay?_ What do you think I am after you attempted to murder me with your junker.” _Junker_? Henry did not completely get what the state of his car had to do at all with the situation, but it infuriated him immensely. He did not care for cars, but he cared for people not trash talking others because of their possessions or lack thereof. Very bad look. But what else to expect from a bloke who probably got a fancy car shoved up his ass by his parents and licked it clean every Saturday. Pathetic.  
  
Meanwhile his opposite wasn’t even close to done with his little rant. “Maybe you learn to drive before getting behind the wheel and posing a hazard to traffic. Or how about turning down that bullshit music. Would help everyone.” – “Excuse you?” That was definitely a low blow. And one Henry would not tolerate. He usually was not easily offended and would let a lot slide.  
  
But attacks on his taste in music. Not happening. Especially not from a twat who probably described his taste in music as ‘ _the radio_.’ “What? Shouldn’t that Emo crap finally get old?” – “Sum41 isn’t even Emo, that’s Pop Punk. How dense are you, mate?” – “What are you even talking about? As if anybody cares. Shouldn’t you focus on different things after _running a person over_?” Oh, suddenly it was important again?  
  
“Jesus, I prodded you a bit. At most. Get over yourself, to me you look as fresh as a daisy.” He knew it was a shit-move. He was in the wrong. He had caused the accident and not the other guy. He really should have shown some remorse. Asked if the victim of his admittedly terrible driving was okay, if he could do something for him. But something in his tone had set him off, straight into defence-mode. Which was practically equivalent to passive aggressive mode. Henry just hoped the other being all accusatory was a positive sign for his health. He probably would have reacted differently when in pain, wouldn't he?

The guy looked like he was about to lash right into an at least five minute long speech about Henry’s despicable existence – and something in Henry wanted to hear it – but got no chance, because from across the courtyard a group of people who Henry, too occupied with his verbal sparring partner, had not even noticed until now, made themselves known by waving and shouting. “Yo, Diaz! You comin’ or what? Chakrabarti rips me a new one if I am late to her class on the first day.”  
  
The guy – _Diaz_ – turned his head towards who were apparently his jock-friends. Then back to Henry. He repeated the movement three times like a broken toy that had gotten into the hands of an overeager toddler who wanted to see it flip its head one time too often. Then he seemingly made a decision on his inner turmoil, scoffed an almost disgusted “You know what. Nevermind. Go fuck yourself” at Henry and turned on the heel to jog towards his friends. No limp or other temporary physical impairments caused by a mild car crash detectable. At least.  
  
Henry’ stare followed him until the group was around the corner. Then he let out a pained sigh that sounded like it had waited to escape for forty years, not ten minutes. He slumped forward against the stupid car which really had betrayed him today, his head clunking against the doorframe. As if it were its fault he couldn’t drive for shit.  
  
The tears were already pricking at his eyes and he needed to collect every ounce of strength of will to push them back down. Not now. If he allowed the floodgates to open now, there was no going back. Approximately for the next three days. This day was already going bad enough. He did not need to be known as the new kid who constantly bawled his eyes out.  
  
A faint bellringing stopped him in his tear-suppressing meditation exercises. Great. He was late already. For a second, he was tempted to just get in the car and bunk. Who needed an education anyways? But he was really not willing to have this kind of conversation with his mother. Again. And procrastinating the start of school to the next day was not really effective. It would not help. Also, he was absolutely not willing to get in this hell of a car again. He probably needed to ask Bea to pick him up after school, as humiliating as it was.  
  
Instead of losing even more time to his contemplation he finally caved with a small groan, got his leather jacket and backpack out of the car and, after locking the door, set off running, one hand rummaging in the depths of his bag for his schedule to at least try to find his class.  
  
His first period was proclaimed “homeroom”. He literally had to google it, when he read it yesterday, finding out that this was how they called forms here. Because they could not be normal people and use normal terms. So, this was supposed to be the group of people he’d see every day, apart from all the other classes being a mix of different students. And he was already making a terrific first impression.  
  
To say a positive thing about this school: it was structured quite logically. He almost expected an absolutely impossible way to arrange the buildings and getting lost in some low-budget version of the Bermuda triangle or accidentally finding Narnia in some storage room. Although he had been over crawling into closets for quite some time now.  
  
But surprisingly, the buildings had an order. There was a big A on the one in the front, where he knew from his paperwork the registration was placed. He originally planned to go there before class started to get all the assignment stuff out of the way, but that was obsolete now. Behind building A was B, then C.  
  
Having mastered the pitfalls of the alphabet proudly at age four, Henry was happy to be able to find building E, his destination, easily. He was seven minutes late when finally arriving at the right room. That was not great, but it also could have been way worse. Especially, given how this day was going so far. Instead of giving in to his flight-instincts screaming inside his brain at the top of their lungs, he took a deep breath, let his knuckles fall against the hard grey undefinable material of the door three short times and resigned himself to his fate.  
  
The teacher, a short Black woman with impeccable orange braids, probably in her early thirties, stopped mid-sentence to look at him. Henry could feel all the eyes in the room on him in an instant. He refused to look, concentrating on the smiling person in front of him. “Are you Henry Fox-Mountchristen?”  
  
He nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak. Why did his name sound disgustingly posh in this environment? “Got lost, huh?” She grinned and he was glad to see the first friendly face on this disaster-day. He was also very happy to take the cop-out although it was a lie. “Yes. I’m sorry.” He almost said her name but remembered just in time that he did not remember it yet.  
  
A murmur in the last row made him finally risk a look at his classmates. Of course. There he sat, in all his prom-king-glory. Of all the people in this admittedly huge school, he obviously had the single one he did not want to see in his form. Homeroom. Whatever. Henry refocused on the teacher, whose name he needed to find out as soon as possible. He would not let this wanker ruin his entire school experience by taking over all his thoughts. He wasn’t even noticing him.  
  
“Well, just make sure you memorize the way until tomorrow and you’re fine.” He nodded again and she pointed to a desk in the front third of the classroom. He took his place, happy he was not having to make weird conversation anymore. And a bit glad he did not have to sit behind Diaz, unable to stop himself from shooting figurative daggers at his head.  
  



	2. I'm so Bored with the U.S.A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to my fav Emo Boy and his lots of whining! Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> I also feel like I have to make a brief disclaimer: I am aware Henry trashtalked the US a lot so far. This is partly because of real opinions I hold but the way it's delivered is deliberately provocative (and might or might not be a topic a bit later on) as he is a very frustrated very petty very 18 year old and nuance is not exactly what at least I was known for at that age. I do by no means want to glorify European countries with this because they are equally shitty.

Henry was relieved to note his day, as atrociously as it might have started, was at least not going downhill anymore. His homeroom period had been rather unspectacular: Miss Thompson – how he thankfully found out on his schedule quickly – had run a lot of organisational things by them.  
  
Henry was probably the only person in class who really needed it and still he was utterly unable to remember the things he was told. He desperately hoped he found the important info somewhere in his documents, because right now he did not see himself asking any of his classmates in the near future. Or ever.  
  
It was not like people were mean. Apart from one person constantly piercing him with ice-cold annoyance there were a lot of smiles and one or another shy ‘Welcome’ that was shot in his direction. It was not like he set his mind on hating everyone and being a recluse. He would very much like to avoid that.  
  
But the thing was: he was incredibly awkward. Unfamiliar social situations were his kryptonite. He just never knew how to behave. It got significantly better as soon as he knew people a bit. But he had to get to that point at first.  
  
According to that, he spent his first school day rather solitary. He did not mind too much. He had invested in airpods with his birthday money and beneath all his hair and the beanie he had yet to be discovered of breaking the rules already. So, he had his music and with Billie Joe Armstrong, Patrick Stump and Yungblud taking turns screaming into his ear he did not feel quite as alone anymore.  
  
His classes actually seemed to be on the interesting side, and apart from some science stuff he was really not keen on, he did not mind the workload of history, social studies and politics that was awaiting him. Sadly, the school did not have a music-program, which had been his favourite subject back home.  
  
But the literature class made up for it. The teacher seemed to be ambitious and chose an interesting array of works for this semester’s reading. ‘ _Sister Outsider’_ by Audre Lorde, Virgina Woolf’s ‘ _Orlando’_ and, as a bit of a more recent title, Bernardine Evaristo’s _‘Girl, Woman, Other’_.  
  
And that was only for the next few months. Nothing Henry hadn’t read yet, but still ballsy to choose that kind of work for a high school curriculum. Maybe this last year of school would not be as bad as he expected.  
  
When it was time for lunch, his stress level had reduced to an endurable level. He was not completely keen on sitting alone but he would survive. And to his relief the cafeteria was more like a giant dining hall, packed with people, so flying under the radar was not too complicated.  
  
Besides, there was another advantage compared to his old school: while still being far from gourmet-level, the food here was actually edible. His former school’s cafeteria had several social media accounts dedicated to post pictures of the offer of the day and identify the respective gloop. Here they even had more than one vegetarian option and it was not soggy grey peas with runny grey potato mash day in day out.  
  
Henry got the vegetable lasagna and retreated to a table further in the back, determined to just eat by himself and maybe read a bit and his plan worked out greatly for a good while. He managed to finish his lunch and read about fifty pages until a shadow appeared on his copy of ‘ _Sense and Sensibility’_ \- a comfort read, really - and he looked up, a slight sense of dread creeping up on him.  
  
He did not know anybody in this school, so the chances were high he was disobeying some sort of social protocol, occupying someone’s place and therefore being about to get a public running-in. Or the only person he knew by name at this school had finally mustered his troops and came to seek revenge.  
  
Instead of either of these nightmares manifesting, there was a grinning girl standing in front of his table. She was positively radiant, her dark skin and unruly curls practically glowing, only accentuated by the bright salmon-coloured knit jumper hanging loosely over one shoulder and the light-washed cuffed jeans she was wearing. She also had one of the straightest sets of brilliantly white teeth Henry had ever seen. Sometimes he really asked himself why he wasn’t into girls. There were so many reasons in favour of it.  
  
Only on the second glance he realized she was reaching out a hand, holding something like a pamphlet or flyer. “Hi, sorry to bother you! You’re new, right?” Henry nodded a bit sheepishly. Was he not fitting in that obviously? “I’m Nora, one of the presidents of Johnson’s GSA. We’re currently recruiting new people for our annual kick-off this Friday.” She pointed at the piece of paper between them and he took it, immediately being greeted by a giant printed rainbow.  
  
“What does GSA mean?” She looked a bit baffled for a second but caught herself in an instant. “Gay Straight Alliance. The name is a bit misleading I admit. We obviously welcome people of all gender and sexual identities, but the school won’t let me change the name to ‘QSA’ no matter how often I file for it. It’s basically a space where everyone is welcome who cares for equal rights. No pressure to label yourself ever.”  
  
He shortly contemplated whether she singled him out because she clocked him. But it looked like she made no difference in who she handed her little flyers and he decided even if she did deem him a fitting member of her club, he didn’t mind. He was, after all. “Did you not have that at your old school?” Henry scoffed. “We had more of a ‘Please don’t be gay and if you can’t help it never ever dare to talk about it’ policy. I did not really fit into that club.”  
  
Nora burst out laughing and Henry couldn’t hold back a little pleased grin. He could be proud of himself; he held a close to non-awkward conversation and even made a person laugh. “Okay listen…” she looked at him expectantly and after a few seconds he realized she was waiting for him to say his name. “Henry.” – “Listen, Henry. You _have_ to come on Friday! You are funny and cute, and everybody will love you.”  
  
He couldn’t stop himself from blushing aggressively, but she just went on as if nothing happened. “We are not having any of the ‘Don’t be gay’ bullshit around here. You’re gonna be as gay as you like.” – “That’s very gay.” His mouth acted faster than his brain. He hadn’t exactly decided yet, how he wanted to handle his sexuality at this school. If it was better to be mellow about it or not give a shit.  
  
He was very sure about not going back into the closet and never denying his gayness when it became a topic. What he just did – practically coming out in the first conversation with a total stranger – was another dimension, though. But maybe he had finally unlocked it, after being forced to not bring it up too much at his all-boys school in order to not get severely bullied and beaten up. Nora just grinned at him in response. “So, I’ll see you on Friday! Awesome, I can’t wait.”  
  
And with that she waved and moved to the next table, leaving him staring at the piece of paper in his hand. Just thinking of meeting a whole group of new people at once without remotely knowing anyone made his skin crawl. On the other hand: what was the damage of meeting the queer people of his school? Or at least the ones who made an effort to not be homophobic.  
  
Was he really contemplating to object himself to a social situation? He concluded to postpone the decision, used the flyer as a bookmark and let the book disappear into his backpack, not willing to be late for another class.  
  
He spent the afternoon with the conjugation of French verbs and thankfully free of further catastrophes. The class level was way beyond the one he was used to, but he did not really mind. He was just happy they even offered French, as he had no particular desire to start Spanish completely from scratch.  
  
The way home took him three times as long as this morning. At first he had to convince himself for a solid ten minutes to even get in the car. And when after another eternity he managed to start the engine he got overtaken by a turtle while backing out, looking into every direction approximately 37 times.  
  
He behaved the same way at every intersection or red light and did not only hear one car horn along the way. But he finally made it home safe and sound without harming any other person, including himself. Still, he needed to change his sweat-soaked shirt and did not really want to think about having to ride the hell-machine every day from now on. Maybe if he got up three hours early every morning he could walk.  
  
Pulling the heavy wooden door to the apartment shut, he kicked off his shoes in the hallway and put his jacket to the wardrobe. “Hello? I’m home!” He was not surprised he got no response. His mother was practically living at work and Bea was staying in a dorm room at the conservatory in Austin during the week.  
  
She would not arrive before Friday. The last two weeks since they arrived in the States, Henry had practically been living alone from Monday to Friday because his mother was barely there. He tried not to mind too much.  
  
Thankfully, there was someone he could always count on concerning an enthusiastic welcoming. Not a second too late the sounds of paws rapidly padding on the hardwood floor announced the furry projectile shooting around the corner the next moment.  
  
Henry grinned and got to his knees, letting his dog lick his face as a wet greeting. “Hello darling, I missed you, too” he cooed and picked David up, holding him to his chest while entering the living area. He was the only person in the world the beagle would let lift him from the ground.  
  
He busied his fingers ruffling the fur on his neck while whispering sweet nothings to the love of his life. “You won’t believe how horrible my day was. I am so happy to see you, my love.”  
  
“Aw, that’s so sweet! I missed you, too.” Henry literally jumped, pressing David closer to his chest, who got shaken up by the jarring movement quite a bit, trying to calm him with pets to his head. “Beatrice! Are you completely out of your mind?” Bea stood at the kitchen isle, in one hand a giant tub of chocolate brownie ice cream, in the other an equally giant spoon.  
  
“David and I could’ve died of shock!” She rolled her eyes at his dramatic reaction. “If I would get a loving welcome like the dog just once,” she teased, seamlessly switching into parroting his earlier words, managing an eerily accurate imitation of his tone of voice. “Hello darling, I missed you, too.”  
  
Henry pretended to glare at her. “If you would be as lovely as David and deserve that treatment, you would get it.” She clutched a hand to her heart, as if deeply wounded. Unfortunately, it was the one with the spoon, leaving a big chocolatey smear on her white shirt proclaiming ‘Riots not Diets’. How fitting.  
  
While Bea was occupied with rubbing the stain further into the fabric, Henry let David, who had begun to stir in his arms, back to the ground and then approached his sister to properly greet her with a side hug, meticulously making sure to not get in touch with the chocolate on her.  
  
“Why was your day horrible, snookums?” Of course, she could not have missed hearing that, could she? He certainly had planned to suck it up and have a brief conversation on the phone with her tonight, where he reassured her that everything was fine. Not her being here and witnessing him whining to his dog about his day. But maybe, a bit of venting was exactly what he needed. Maybe that would make the massive rock lying on his chest since he woke up this morning, a little bit less grave.  
  
“Uuuuuuuurgh” he groaned and buried his head in his arms after crossing them on the counter of the kitchen isle. “Everything is shit. I hate it here.” It was dubious if she understood him mumbling the words into his forearm, but nonetheless she seemed to get the gist. And she was not easy on him, today. “Why that?”  
  
He sighed, unbent again and reached for the backpack still hanging off his shoulder, to get out his phone and book, resting them on the counter and dropping the bag to the floor. “Exhibit A: We are in the middle of bloody nowhere. I have to take a car to get anywhere at all in this wasteland with which I will most likely sooner than later kill someone.”  
  
Bea rolled her eyes once again. “Henry, stop being so fucking dramatic. We are in the suburbs. This is not that different to where we lived in London. Austin is half an hour by car. And if you hate driving so much, take the bus.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked to the side.  
  
She was right. Of course, she was. Deep inside he was well aware he was exaggerating the situation and obsessing over hating every single thing. But he had been taken away from his life without being asked at all. It has just been decided for him to leave everything behind that mattered to him. Wasn’t he allowed to be a bit dramatic?  
  
He decided not to humour her by agreeing. “Exhibit B: the people here are shitty.” He thought of the all-American golden boy with the aggression problem and for a second, he did not even feel bad about the generalisation he had made. Then he remembered Nora and how easy-going and welcoming she had been, talking to him like they had known each other for ages and immediately regretted even saying it.  
  
Bea just shook her head, half amused half exhausted by her little brother’s stubbornness. “And you know that because true to your personality you obviously already talked to the thousands of people at your new school and know everyone personally, right?” For a millisecond he contemplated to shove her face forward into the ice cream.  
  
“No.” Henry moved to one of the kitchen cupboards, the one where he stored his snacks. The good stuff from home he wouldn’t get here that easily. He really had to ask Pez to send a care package soon since he was already half through the stock he had brought with him. He ripped open a packet of Jaffa Cakes. This day required for bringing the big guns in.  
  
“I had an argument with some prick before the first lesson even started.” He began nibbling on the biscuit instead of continuing his explanation, savouring the perfect mix of softness and chocolate and the freshness of the jelly. Bea made a hand gesture, urging him to go on.  
  
“He was quite rude actually. Completely lashing out at me.” – “Without a reason?” Henry suddenly was very occupied by the half-eaten piece of pastry in his hand, inspecting it thoroughly. “Henry…” He let out a desperate sigh. “We might have had a little accident.” Bea gasped audibly. “With the _car_? Henry, can you please just tell me what happened?” She was suddenly earnest, but there also wasn’t any judgement in her voice. She was just genuinely concerned and wanted to help.  
  
He caved and gave her a quick summary. “I really don’t know why I didn’t see him. I was super concentrated to get properly into the parking spot and when I backed out a bit he was suddenly there. I was so shocked I didn’t even apologize.” He cringed remembering the scene. That had admittedly been a dick move. “And then he started yelling at me which… I guess was kind of justified.” – “But he wasn’t hurt?”  
  
Henry shook his head. “He did not say so. And then he left for class with his friends. I saw him throughout the day, and he seemed okay, so I really hope he is. If something else happens with this I tell you immediately, I promise.” Bea nodded firmly. She knew she could trust him to be honest with this and he knew he could always rely on her with absolutely everything. And vice versa. That was just how it had always been between them. Even more for the last two years.  
  
“Oh boy, this is really a horrible day, sorry for assuming you exaggerated.” He scoffed. He kind of was exaggerating after all. She scooped out another spoonful of ice cream and held it towards him. He took it without question. As mentioned earlier: big guns. They were in the US now, after all.  
  
“Why are you even here?” He suddenly remembered why he had been surprised by her presence in the first place: she should not be here yet. “Can’t I visit my baby brother on his very first day of school?” – “Nobody could ever tell you what you can or cannot do. But you shouldn’t. You have class tomorrow, and I can survive on my own.”  
  
“My classes don’t start before noon. There is plenty of time still. I sleep way better in my bed here. And how exactly do you survive? By running a person over?” He groaned. Of course, she would use it against him at the very first opportunity. “Me running pretty boy over has nothing to do with my ability to lead a perfectly independent life.” He realized his mistake a second too late. “You ran him over with your car and still could notice he was pretty? That’s some impressive talent right there!”  
  
He attempted to hit her with the spoon, but she dodged quite elegantly, giggling. Apparently, she was very pleased with herself. And as grudgingly as he wanted to admit it: Her silliness helped taking the edge off the huge clusterfuck that his life currently seemed to be. Although he really had no need to think about the pretty face of some bloke he didn’t like and who totally despised him. Not more than he already had.  
  
Bea’s little sidestepping left her in the perfect position to see the flyer he had co-opted as a bookmark. And just like him, she was conditioned to react to rainbows, pulling it out, making Henry curse her only a bit for having to find the page again later. “Oh, they have a GSA at your school? Terrific!” Of course, _she_ knew what it meant.  
  
“Although the name really could be more inclusive.” – “You and Nora would be great friends, that’s basically the first thing she said.” Bea looked at him a bit confused. “Who’s Nora?” Henry realized he had not given her any context. “Oh. The girl who handed me the flyer. She is apparently leading it.”  
  
Bea grinned mischievously. “Aaaaaw look at my little womanizer. Day one and you already meet girls. Gran would be so happy to hear that.” Henry rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and threw the balled-up wrapper of his cakes towards her, barely missing her head.  
  
She stuck out her tongue, shamelessly flashing the silver stud in the middle of it. At least he was not the only one furiously hated by the conservative family branch on his mother’s side, with their grandmother leading the way. Suddenly having an ocean between them was not the worst perspective.  
  
For Henry it was mostly his sexuality that rubbed his relatives the wrong way. Although they also had lots to say about his ‘girlish’ behaviour and inappropriate looks, even long before he was openly out. The main portion of hate regarding appearance had always and forever been directed towards his sister, though.  
  
She had started dyeing her hair at age 14 and never stopped again, the regularly changing bright colours, currently a pastel lilac, all not appropriate for a decent young lady. The collection of face piercings she had accumulated over the years – through her nostril, tongue, the top of her lip as well as an impressive amount in her ears – as well as several tattoos were not exactly helping.  
  
The worst thing has never been the condescending glances and comments though. It was that Henry so often had to listen to some uncle or aunt tell her how pretty she could be if she just lost 20 pounds, he once almost punched their cousin, when he repeated it. Or the times they asked her when she would finally bring home a proper young gentleman, when bringing home anybody was so far from her wishes as he was currently from the life he was supposed to be living.  
  
Bea never let them see if they hurt her, only shot back witty remarks and sarcastic responses. Maybe she really wasn’t that bothered. But he had gotten angrier and more devastated every time their mother made them go there. When he came out to Bea at age fifteen – the first person he ever told at all – he did so by asking her whether she thought they would finally stop nagging her about bringing home a man if he did so instead. Because he thought he could manage. It still was one of their favourite inside jokes.  
  
As always when it happened, Bea realized he was getting too absorbed in his thoughts and managed to shake him out of it. By throwing the wrapper right back at him, hitting the corner of his lip, throwing her fist in the air like she won the Olympics.  
  
“Don’t you want to give this place a proper chance?” She asked after another moment of silence. He sighed heavily, all the hardships of the day and honestly the last weeks audible in the low sound. “I don’t know. Maybe. I decide later. Not today.”  
  
She nodded, reaching for her phone. “Accepted. And until you make your final verdict, I have exactly the right song for you.” She scrolled a short moment before pressing play, her lips crooked up in a wicked grin. As soon as he heard the first guitar chords, quickly accompanied by a driving drumbeat, he couldn’t hold back roaring laughter.  
  
This _was_ the perfect song indeed. Bea started to sing along, impressively knowing all the lyrics. He watched her in awe, when she grabbed the washing-up brush and latched into a captivating performance in front of the fridge. His sister was a born rock star.  
  
As soon as the chorus set in, Henry could at least help her with backing vocals, feeling every word. “I’m so bo-o-o-red with the U.” Pause “S.” Pause “A.” That was manageable, screaming it back at her again and again, while she led him dancing into the middle of the living room where the space was a bit more generous for a punk performance, their appreciative audience a little beagle. Although Henry couldn’t help her with the lead vocals, he did contribute with an air-guitar solo, knee slide and all.  
  
He never even recognized how much he had missed their stupid little dance parties. But right now, he felt all freed from his worries and dark thoughts, no brain capacity left for school or cars or pretty boys or being practically alone in a strange country, just pure endorphins running through his veins.


	3. hope for the underrated youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another highly introspective chapter... I know it has been a lot of internal monologue so far and not much action happening, but to me it felt kinda true to Henry to set the mood and scene with lots of information and internal commentary. I hope you don't mind too much. 
> 
> And I promise, in the next chapter waaaaaay more things will happen ;)) so stay tuned <3
> 
> Also, biggest thanks to everybody who is reading this! I appreciate all of you a hella lot!!!

The rest of the school week went on rather smoothly in comparison to the monstrosity that had been Monday. Henry made an effort to go to school one hour early every morning, though, just so he never had the problem of having to fall back on a bad parking spot ever again. He spent the spare time until class started in the library, reading, or working on something.  
  
It quickly became his favourite place in the entire school; seemingly endless rows of books, ceiling-high windows bundling the serene morning light and a few plushy sofas between the workplaces. It was rather unsurprising the place Henry felt most comfortable was between myriads of books.  
  
As suspected, most of his classes were pretty interesting and the teachers not too bad. Most of them spared him the whole annoying self-introduction-procedure, which was appreciated, so that he could just sit and listen or, regarding his physics class, not listen at all.  
  
The sole exception to this rule was Literature. As his chosen reading material had foreshadowed, Mr Min was not your regular teacher. Henry secretly suspected he was queer, too. Mainly because the books he made them read and the questions he posed were way too progressive for a cis het man.  
  
And maybe also a bit, because it would make him very happy to see a queer man, all grown up and living his life and achieving his goals. Maybe literature teacher was a thing Henry could do himself, if becoming a published writer wouldn’t work out after all. Also, okay he admitted it: He was really nice to look at, too.  
  
He constantly encouraged the class to make challenging thoughts and discuss. The problem was most of the other people were totally not interested in that. Henry usually was a quiet student, absorbing information, keeping all his thoughts to himself and eventually excelling in any tests or essays.  
  
But not when the topic was literature. He could never keep quiet about books and writers and meta levels and stylistic devices. He had felt weird in the beginning, raising his hand to basically any question the teacher posed, knowing he was heavily judged by his peers. But his urge to participate in literary discourse was stronger.  
  
Thankfully, he was not all alone. Apart from him there was this girl, June, who voiced her numerous and always exceptionally eloquent opinions even more spiritedly than he was. She somehow faintly reminded him of someone, look wise, but he couldn’t put his finger on, whom it was. Maybe an actress.  
  
She was one of the smartest people Henry had ever met, at least taking into consideration only people his own age, but she was not at all smug about it. So, it was mostly Mr Min, June and himself running the course matter.  
  
Usually, whenever he made a comment or voiced a thought, June would shoot him a beaming smile, an approving nod or once or twice even a thumbs-up. It made him happy to know there was a person in this school he might maybe get along with beyond the typical surface level.   
  
He even contemplated to talk to her after class on Thursday but got cold feet eventually. He was too awkward to pull that off and any line to start a conversation began to sound dull in his head as soon as he had mentally practiced it 38 times.  
  
Apart from the intellectual stimulation in lit the only other big challenge of his school days were the home room periods. Not because there were any difficult tasks to complete. It was mostly just a few minutes of organisational updates and then single person working. The obstacle was a very special person and their very special treatment of Henry.  
  
Alexander Claremont-Diaz, which apparently was his full name, had not made up his mind and retracted the gauntlet he’d thrown so readily on Monday. Not that he was openly attacking him. Maybe Henry would have preferred that. At least in that case he would have had something to react to.  
  
Like this, it was just icy shoulders and thick silence sending him to Coventry. Not that he _wanted_ to talk to Alex. That was ridiculous. But making up a childish fight was ridiculous, too. On Tuesday he still planned to sort it out and apologize to him, because it _had been_ his fault after all.  
  
But seeing Alex’s disdainful glare only from across the classroom made him drop that line of action. He wanted petty? He could have it. At least the only other class they shared apart from homeroom was politics, so it thankfully wasn’t too hard to avoid him.  
  
On Thursday evening he finally managed to get in a decent video call with Pez. Just an occasional text message here and there was definitely not the sufficient dose of his best friend’s company he required, especially since they had been more or less conjoined at the hip since they had met in year seven.  
  
Some part of him suspected that he wouldn’t have minded the move as much as he had if he could have just taken Pez with him. It wasn’t all bad over here, but he was alone. He had Bea, of course, but she had her own life and studies to take care of and he did not want to slow her down by constantly clinging to her coat-strings. Besides, how pathetic was it if your only social contact was your own sister.  
  
Having at least one friend would have been nice. But he had never been good at making new friends. Hadn’t Pez swooped in, looked at him once, decided they would become best friends and then basically adopted him, he probably would have never had the social circle he had been relying on so much over the last years.  
  
But Pez was not having Henry feeling sorry for himself. He much rather wanted to know everything about school (“It could be worse. Having a cute lit teacher is a huge plus.”), the people (“Have you really forgotten everything about me already? As if I met anyone in just one week. Maybe I can make one friend until the end of the year and then we’ll graduate and never see each other again.”) and whether the US were as bizarre as it seemed (“Yes.”).  
  
But as per usual Pez’s favourite topic was if Henry had already met any cute boys. And when he vehemently negated it – English teachers didn’t count – he moved on to a very special one. Which made his stomach drop in a very unpleasant way. Henry, in his rage, had made the fatal mistake to tell Pez about the Alex-incident. And being his idiotic self, he could have not skipped the info that his newfound nemesis was – quote unquote – hot as fuck.  
  
So naturally, Pez was teasing and prying to a point where he tried to get Alex’s full name out of him to take a look at him on Instagram. Like hell he would provide him with that sort of ammunition. He would most likely not find anything under that name – not that Henry had checked – but Pez worked in mysterious ways and he did not want to risk it.  
  
Uncomfortable topics aside, it had been wonderful to have a real talk with his friend again and he was still thriving on it on Friday at school, albeit being tired due to staying up so late. It had been a rough day, schoolwork wise, and he couldn’t wait to go home, get out of these tight jeans and take turns at listening to depressing music and watching lots of Bake Off all weekend long. But the Gods of rest and relaxation seemed to not be on his side today.  
  
“Hey! Henry!” He could have just pretended he had not heard. But he was caught by surprise that anybody at this school would know his name, much less call it out loud in the hallway, that he turned by instinct. In the time he needed to stop and turn around, Nora, whom he realized had been the one calling after him, had caught up. And with her, Henry recognized a bit wondering, was June from his lit class.  
  
“Where do you think you’re going?” Oh damn, he really did not expect to be called out for his absence at the GSA. He never exactly promised her to attend the meeting but even if he had, he did not think of a scenario where he would have to face consequences for not going. He honestly thought she’d forget about him the second after she left his table on Monday. He wouldn’t have judged her for it. But here she was, clearly demanding an explanation.  
  
The thing was, he kind of wanted to go. But the more time had passed since the invitation had been issued, the less he felt capable to attend a meeting with hoards of people he did not know. Bea and Pez both tried to convince him to go, but he had done a better job in convincing himself it wasn’t his scene. But now, being directly confronted with Nora, he had to admit he was a bit intimidated. So, the only thing coming to his mind was to play dumb. “Errr… home?”  
  
“Definitely not! You can help us set up the room!” And with that she linked her arm through his and dragged him along in the opposite direction of his car. Henry tried to keep the panic arising at the prospect of an unfamiliar social situation at bay. He turned his head to June to seek help, but she just shook her head amusedly as if she wanted to say: _“Don’t look at me I have nothing to do with this scheme.”  
_  
Nora seemed to notice his glance and apparently seemed to momentarily remember her manners. “Oh, by the way, this is June Claremont-Diaz. She’s in the GSA, too. June, that’s Henry… I have no clue of his last name, to be honest.” Henry was about to explain that he and June knew each other from class when something entirely else dawned on him. “Wait. Your last name is Claremont-Diaz?” He hadn’t heard it in literature yet. Mr Min always used their first names.  
  
Nora let out a sound that could only be described as a cackle. “Aaaaw, seems like he already met your brother.” June rolled her eyes, but in an oddly fond way. “What did he do?” Henry scoffed. Was Alex some kind of troublemaker if his sister and friend so automatically believed he did do something. “We… had a little incident on Monday.”  
  
Nora clasped her Hand over her mouth, unable to keep the giggles in. “Oh my God! _You_ were the one who ran him over? This is perfect I can’t even.” – “I did _not_ run him over.” That was kind of a harsh way to put it, wasn’t it? It was not like he did chase Alex across the parking lot in his care just to mow him down. “I touched him a bit with my car while backing out. It was an accident.”  
  
“Except, you did not.” He stopped in his tracks, making Nora, whose arm was still crossed with his, come to a halt abruptly, too, and stared at June with wide eyes. “Excuse me?” June shook her head in amusement. “You know, my brother is a giant drama queen. And I had to listen to the sad story of him getting assaulted with a car fourteen times too many. So, I started to ask questions. And if you know how to interrogate him properly it usually does not take too long until he caves.”  
  
Henry still couldn’t wrap his head around what she wanted to say to him. And that was obviously apparent on his face. June sighed, maybe a bit exhausted by his inability to put two and two together.  
  
“You did not really hit him with the car, Henry. You probably both did not watch out and he walked into you, when you didn’t even move. It was half as bad as he made it out to be. But to his defence: I think he was a bit in shock.” For the fraction of a second it looked like she wanted to add something to her little speech, but ultimately she stayed quiet.  
  
Henry couldn’t really process the new information. Part of him was just relieved that there wouldn’t be any bad consequences out of this, neither for Alex nor for him. He really would have hated himself for hurting him. On the other hand, Alex made him feel like the worst person on earth for the entire week. All for absolutely nothing. He had to rethink chasing that little shit over the parking lot.  
  
“Please don’t go and run him over for good now.” Jesus, could she read his thoughts? That would be unfortunate, considering all the times during literature Henry’s thoughts had wandered to no one but her stupid brother, of all people. “I won’t. But just because I don’t want to bring that sort of grief over your family.” – “That’s really sweet of you,” June responded, and they grinned at each other. Meanwhile Nora had resumed their journey, dragging Henry along by the arm.  
  
The room in which the meeting would take place was surprisingly their literature classroom. And one of the teachers chaperoning it was, not so surprising, Mr Min. That guy was definitely not straight. Or he was a strong contestant for the “Ally of the Year”-Award.  
  
The other was Miss Thompson – also not the biggest surprise as she had a small pride flag on the wall over her desk – and Henry was kind of proud he seemed to have chosen his two favourite teachers just right.  
  
When Nora did not let go of his arm, but instead dragged him towards a group of several people, chattering animatedly, Henry remembered this was a social gathering and he was about to be facing once more an incredibly awkward introduction procedure.  
  
In reality, it wasn’t half as bad. When they stopped in front of them, the others interrupted their conversation. “Hey Nora, did you find us a new victim?” a small person with a dark skin tone and short bright emerald hair asked with a smirk. They wore an all-black outfit and a lip ring and only style-wise them and Henry could probably easily become friends.  
  
Nora nudged him with her elbow and reminded him that it was probably required of him to introduce himself. His favourite pastime activity. “Uhm..hi. I’m Henry.” His voice sounded a bit squeaky, didn’t it? “I’ve been only going here since Monday.” He added, just to one second later remember another vital info he maybe should mention. “Oh, and I use he/him pronouns.”  
  
Introducing himself with pronouns was a practice he had learned at the queer feminist spaces – mostly shows – Bea and Pez would respectively or collectively drag him to, back home. He liked the thought of never assuming anyone’s pronouns and making it a habit to always ask a lot because it normalized the topic instead of singling out a group for whom it was important.  
  
He wished he was more confident so he would incorporate it self-evidently in all his everyday life. But he sadly wasn’t there yet. Still relying on assuming people’s genders by the binary concepts deeply ingrained in his brain. But in this particular setting it had felt right to mention it. And the pleased grin forming on his opposite’s face proved him right.  
  
“Very nice to meet you, Henry. I’m Felix. He/They.” Directed to Nora they added: “You found an educated one! How cool is that.” Henry couldn’t help himself but to blush profusely. It wasn’t all horrible though, especially when the other people around him started to introduce themselves, too.  
  
He met Jake (he/him), Linda (she/her) and Alice (she/her), who – at least according to their intertwined hands – were a couple, which made Henry irrationally happy, as well as Elliot (they/them) who was the other one of the Co-Presidents . And although he hadn’t known these people at all until a few minutes ago, it already felt different than just meeting them randomly in class.  
  
Henry spent the time until the meeting started as Nora’s personal runner, hanging up flags and regrouping chairs and desks. He didn’t mind, he actually liked to be useful for once. The meeting itself was in fact very low-key and more a group of friends hanging out and catching up than the official, intimidating assembly he had imagined.  
  
Later, when he helped Nora and June to carry the things to Nora’s car, they explained it was almost always like that. Them hanging out, doing movie nights or quizzes or Holiday baking. But whenever someone had things to discuss, there was space for it and they also regularly worked on projects, the biggest milestone being the establishment of gender-neutral bathrooms last year.  
  
Nora’s latest obsession was the election of the royal prom couple. She was determined to change the practice of compulsory electing one girl and one boy, trying to not make gender a category at all. Henry was very much in favour of that, although he couldn’t care less for a profanity like prom.   
  
*****  
  
From that Friday on, Henry did not eat his lunches alone anymore. It was June who waved at him on Monday, signalling him to come over. Which he did, at least after looking over his shoulder to make sure she was not aiming at somebody behind him. She wasn’t and she was decent enough to not even mock him.   
  
Nora sat next to him in the library on Tuesday. Sometimes some of the GSA people or other friends of Nora and June’s joined them, which Henry didn’t mind at all, because he got along well with all of them. But the three of them became the staple constellation. He would have never expected it to happen, but somehow it worked exceptionally well.  
  
He could be himself with them. They did not mind when he had moments he would not actively participate in a conversation and just retreat into himself as well as they appreciated when he rambled about topics he was passionate about for minutes. He considered himself very lucky.  
  
Moreover, he put the pins he had cautiously taken off his checkerboard backpack before starting the first school day back on. He had left all the ones with band names untouched, as well as the anarchy-sign, the scratched-through swastika and the one proclaiming “ _All Cats Are Beautiful_ ”.  
  
But his favourites had waited patiently in the drawer of his bedside table: an enamel one in the shape of a cassette tape painted in rainbow colours and labelled “ _Homo Mega Mix_ ”, which had been a birthday present from Pez as well as two classically round buttons. The first showed a pink triangle on a black background surrounded by the words “ _Gays Against Fascism_ ” and the second simply said in bold letters “ _Straight White Cis Boys Don’t Own Punk.”_  
  
Just as with the eyeliner and nail polish, which he had started to occasionally wear again when he felt like it from the second week on, he was more settled in not holding himself back now that he knew he had at least a handful of people on his side and wasn’t completely out on a limb. He felt more at ease.  
  
It did not occur to him that one particular person never even stopped by at their table until he saw him talk to Nora and June a few times in the hallway. Henry somehow considered maybe June and her brother did not have the kind of relationship where they would hang out at school. But in fact, they seemed quite tight in the way they talked to each other. So, what – or rather who? – was the problem at lunch?  
  
It was self-absorbed and ridiculous, he knew that, and he was embarrassed in front of himself for even thinking it. But some petty part of him couldn’t stop questioning why Alex could not even overcome his disdain of Henry a bit to speak to his sister when he was around.  
  
He usually could shove this kind of unwanted thoughts to the very last corner of his brain where they wouldn’t bother him anymore. Yet, that endeavour got significantly more difficult, when the person the thoughts centred about was running and shouting only a few metres away. He did not plan this.  
  
It was not his fault the lacrosse field was on the way to the parking spot that had become his regular. He did not do it on purpose. But he also did not exactly look away. He was only a hormonal teenager after all and there was something about fit blokes in shorts that really did it for him.  
  
“Henry!” At this point he recognized Nora’s voice immediately. He turned around, trying to show not too much of the guilt of being caught in the act of ogling guys he really should not ogle. She and June sat in the bleachers their bags piled onto a seat next to them.  
  
Nora had her white converse propped up on the seat in front of her and June’s legs, clad in a plaid mini skirt, over knee socks and platform loafers, were splayed over her thigs. Both wore sunglasses. They looked exorbitantly cool. Too cool to be friends with Henry but he stopped questioning that and was grateful instead.  
  
Henry climbed over the first two rows to reach them, falling into the seat next to June. “Why are you two still here?” On Fridays they were free an hour earlier than Henry who still had to endure a rather dry history lesson. “We are waiting for Alex,” June explained. “They doubled down on practice time because of the game next week.”  
  
Ah yes, the game. Henry was still a bit confused about the fascination this school seemed to have with lacrosse. He had assumed all Americans went crazy about football – their football, not the actual one – and nothing else.  
  
But when he had dared to ask, Nora had explained to him that Johnson’s football team apparently “sucked balls” and the lacrosse guys were the ones bringing home the trophies. So, it was kind of understandable the school wanted to focus on the team they could actually cheer for.  
  
It also explained why everybody seemed to love Alex. He was the captain. And, as far as Henry could judge with his layman’s opinion, he was exceptionally good. It was in fact quite pleasing to watch him chase the ball and outsmart his opponents with honestly impressive footwork. Not that Henry did watch him.  
  
“We actually wanted to go see a movie. The theatre on Park Street has this surprise package thing going where you only pay three bucks and get to see a probably very shitty movie, popcorn included. Wanna come?” Henry was tempted for a second. Going to the cinema with friends was a thing he hadn’t done in ages and the concept on hand sounded like fun.  
  
But going with Alex? Not happening. He would either make a scene when he saw Henry, refusing to come along, or brutally ignore him all evening. Not his favourite pastime. “Sounds lovely. But I promised my sister to stay home tonight and watch dumb reality tv with her. She adores to hate watch the Bachelor and comment on the different levels of misogyny every five seconds.”  
  
It was not a complete lie. Bea did love to watch various reality formats to run her mocking commentary throughout and they had planned to do that this weekend. But she was still in Austin tonight, finishing an important performance project for one of her classes.  
  
However, it made a better excuse than: “Oh no, I really can’t come along because your brother slash friend hates me more than any person in this world and I’ll rather spend my evening alone with my dog, listening to the most depressing playlist I can find for hours.”  
  
Before either of them could react to Henry’s refusal, a commotion on the field caught all their attention. Two of the players stood way closer together than it was advised, especially with those apparatuses they were holding, obviously discussing agitatedly.  
  
Henry realized one of them was Alex, the other he had never recognized before. It was clear that they would probably start to physically fight if no one stopped them. Fortunately, one of their teammates acted quickly and separated the brawlers before they could seriously harm each other.  
  
June had taken her legs off Nora’s lap and stood up as if she wanted to march down to the field and tell her brother to get it together. “Christ, what is up with those two? That’s ridiculous!” Henry knew it was not at all his place to know, but the question slipped his tongue before he could think it through properly.  
  
“What do you mean?” At least June did not seem to find his question weird. “Alex and Liam have been friends practically forever. He spent so much time at our place over the years, at times it was odd to not have him around. They would never physically fight, not even when they were much younger. Something must have happened before summer break, because since then they are behaving like baboons. But no matter how much I ask he won’t tell me.”  
  
It was pure coincidence that he looked at Nora at that second, who had tucked her sunglasses into her hair to better watch the scene. There was something crossing her face, as if she knew more, was provided with information him and June didn’t have. But _that_ was certainly not his place to ask.  
  
Still, when he was on the way home a bit later, he cursed himself frustratedly, questioning why it was once again Alex Claremont-Diaz of all people, his mind was wandering to.


	4. Constant Headache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised there will be more happening in this chapter. I stand by my word. It's also a long one, so you better buckle up. 
> 
> Also.... I really hope you don't hate me... I have an explanation for this... kinda 
> 
> (I also am okay with comments that tell me what a horrible digsusting bitch I am, let it all out) 
> 
> (Furthermore I dedicate this chapter to my lovely Melanie because of its title, although she will probably hate me when she reads it.. luv u (✿◕‿◕)

The overall mood in the school hallways changed with every day the opening game of the lacrosse season got closer. The rising excitement was physically palpable in the air. Whenever you heard people talk to each other there seemed to be no other possible topic of conversation. A very unpleasant side effect was the giant fuss everybody was making about the guys on the team.  
  
From Monday on the crowd of excited girls Henry had to fight his way through to exit the classroom after first period constantly expanded, eager to welcome Alex and the other lacrosse bloke in their homeroom and escort them to their next class. As if someone would try to attack them. Not that Henry in his frustration hadn’t considered it.  
  
On Wednesday they put out flags in the school colours everywhere, which were a surprisingly flattering dark maroon in combination with a cream colour. On the same day at lunch Nora and June started to plan the visit of the game on Friday night, which included very precise calculations on Nora’s side when to arrive to get the best seats and how to divide and conquer for the right amount of snacks.  
  
Henry noticed, half surprised, half flattered, that he was automatically included in all the arrangements that were made. He slowly was getting accustomed to the fact that these were his friends now, but a tiny suspicious part of his brain still waited for the catch.  
  
On his own, he would have never planned to go see the game. He thought of himself as the kind of person that did not participate in school spirit events. He never had back home, but around here it seemed to be much bigger of a deal and rather impossible to miss out. He also had no excuse that would hold, and he really couldn’t lie to his friends… again. And maybe he also wanted to find out for himself what all the hype was really about.  
  
On Friday, the big day, the pent-up energy was on its climax. Everybody seemed to be buzzing with excitement, even the teachers made comments about the game here and there. It was all quite surreal. The lacrosse team had developed an unbearably annoying habit of strutting around the school as if it belonged to them, which, to be completely fair, it kind of did.  
  
Alex was the most insufferable of them all. Henry did not explicitly watch him of course. He just happened to have to see his stupidly smug face every goddamn morning and an additional time during politics. He almost wished they would lose just so he wouldn’t have to see this expression again anytime soon.  
  
What he did not expect was that he would have to see that face close-up again before next week. At lunch June surprised him with something she had never done before since Henry knew her: she stood up to get her brother’s attention and waved him over.  
  
As it was the day of the big game, the lacrosse team was apparently inexplicably forced to travel in packs and there were never less than five of them in one place. Therefore, a few seconds later he found their little group of three surrounded by seven bulky guys he did not really know, neither did he want to know them. He could think of seventeen more comfortable situations at the top of his head, including climbing an active volcano and being shoved into the Thames in January.  
  
Alex seemed reluctant to even come over and he did not miss the dismissive glance shot at himself, before he focused all his attention on the girls. Jesus fucking Christ, would he ever get over their little feud and behave like a normal person? Well, he had to become a normal person for that first.  
  
“I just…” June started, and her voice was weirdly strained. Henry usually only heard her being confident and determined, never at a loss for words. Something was up but Henry did not know her well enough yet to guess what it could be. “Mom and Dad won’t make it to the game. But I got the car so if you need a ride home afterwards…” Something about this was very odd, but Henry really did not want to pry, so he instead was very interested in the chickpea-curry on his plate.  
  
“Wow, what a surprise, I’m shocked.” There was something in his voice, something underneath the obviously fake nonchalance he laid on so thick, and it itched Henry to find out what it was. But he did not dare to look up, so curry it was. “There is a party at Tyler Klein’s afterwards. So, I don’t need a ride.”  
  
As this conversation seemed to take longer than Henry had expected and the rice and sauce on his plate only provided very limited potential to hold one’s attention, Henry pulled his phone out of his back pocket to at least have something to busy his hands and eyes with and not sit there like an absolute idiot listening in on a conversation that did not have to bother him. That was a mistake.  
  
“Aaaaaw, is that your boyfriend? You look adorable together.” Henry turned around intuitively to where the voice had come from behind his head. He had a selfie of Pez and himself saved as his wallpaper, because he obviously missed his best friend a lot and it really helped to see his face regularly.  
  
The last thing he would have expected was bullshit like this. On the other hand, the first person he would have expected it from was Craig Harris. He only knew his name because they had maths together and that guy really gave off some bad vibes just by existing, making Henry’s least favourite subject only the second to worst atrocity in that class.  
  
The funny part was the sentence alone wasn’t even bad at all. Had anybody else said it he maybe would have taken it as a genuine question. It was the way he said it, his tone dripping with sarcasm and something even meaner. The suction cup-like silence that came over the table the second the words were in the air proved him right. He wasn’t the only one who saw it as an insult.  
  
Luckily, he had a lot of experience with twats like that. Craig was not special, as much as he wished he was, and his Mummy might have convinced him. Henry sat up a bit, making sure he appeared as unfazed as he could, properly steeling himself for battle.  
  
Thankfully, his voice came out calm and unbothered. “Sorry to disappoint you, Craig. I don’t do boyfriends. I also don’t do fuckboys so you can move on.” He shot him an obviously false smile for good measure and then proceeded to eat his lunch.” There was an endlessly seeming moment of silence. Then June let out an approving whistle and Nora made a whooping noise exactly at the same time.  
  
He saw the guys moving in the corner of his eye, not bothering to even look at Craig again. But he did catch a weird look from Alex he really couldn’t pin down. Nora waved after the clearing off boys, smiling sweetly. Then she leaned towards him. “Dude! That was cruel! I’m impressed.” He wanted to appear unbothered but couldn’t stop the corner of his lip jutting up in a smirk. “I mean I know you can be a sassy bitch but that was next level. You destroyed that douchebag.”  
  
Henry threw a chickpea at her to make her shut up. “She’s right!” June chimed in. “That was the most masterful clapback I have witnessed in a while. But, you know, we can say something, too. If shit like that should happen again.”  
  
Henry looked at her, unable to hide his confusion. “Don’t worry. I am used to it. I can handle it myself.” – “I know you can, you made that very clear. But you don’t have to. That’s all.” Henry just nodded, unable to form a word around the lump that had formed in his throat.  
  
  
  
The rest of his classes that day was unspectacular in comparison to the showdown that happened at lunch and his history teacher even dismissed the class half an hour earlier because of the game, so that Henry arrived home way earlier than he had planned with. It was not exactly in his favour, because like this he had time to worry about what to wear tonight, which was absolutely ridiculous, because who would care.  
  
Still, he changed the shirt he had worn all day, an oversized one with the artwork of Green Day’s _Dookie_ on it, for one of his absolute favourites, a vintage black The Clash one Bea had snatched him at her favourite thrift shop in Shoreditch. He even threw a black and grey flannel on top.  
  
He did not change his pants as it would only mean switching the ridiculously tight dark pair with rips at the knees for another that looked exactly the same, but he did, instead of relying on his trusty vans, get his pair of Doc Martens from the shelf he put them into when moving in three weeks ago. Who knew how rough the grounds at those type of games were?  
  
When he was finally content with his outfit after adding a silver-studded black belt complete with a chain as well as an array of silver rings it was still more than twenty minutes time until June and Nora would pick him up so out of the lack of something else to do he turned up the Yellowcard song playing in the background and moved across the hall into the bathroom.  
  
If he did have the time he could as well go all in. Henry was not the type of person who would go totally overboard with the eyeliner, but he liked how a bit of it made the blue of his eyes shine out more. He did not do it on a day-to-day basis because it was too much effort as well as not completely fitting his general look, which was overall more laid back. But from time to time, he enjoyed being a tad more extra.  
  
After finishing the eye make-up he proceeded to get his hair into the shape he wanted it to be, failing miserably. When his phone chimed with a message from Nora, announcing that they would be there in five minutes, he surrendered and just put on the beanie.  
  
If he were at home, he would constantly wear it at this time of year anyways, but over here it was way too warm, even now that they were at the brink of October, which was frankly unsettling. He was honestly missing the rain and gloominess of Britain.  
  
When he entered the living space of the flat to grab his wallet and keys, Bea, who had been working on her laptop at the breakfast bar looked up and after taking him in started to grin. “Oh wow! Whom did you get all dolled up for?” Henry rolled his eyes, not at all willing to take the bait.  
  
His phone chimed again in his hand and he said Goodbye to Bea. Although if he had thought she would just stay inside, when there was an opportunity to embarrass him like the responsible older sister she was, he had thought wrong. He heard the steps of her heavy combat boots behind him and silently cursed her.  
  
“You know. There is really no need for you to accompany me outside.” He tried while opening the apartment door, stepping out to the front yard. “What kind of sister would that make me? I have to see you off!” Her dramatic tone was ridiculous. “I am going to a high school sports game, Bea. Not war.”  
  
“Practically the same” she shrugged off loftily, shoving him out of the door without hesitation and closing it behind them. Great. She would probably make a scene in front of his friends just to nag him. “Besides, I have to have a look at these girls you are hanging out with all the time. What if they are corrupting you?” – “They can’t be worse than what you already do to me.” She grinned with unconcealed satisfaction. “Oh, I sure hope so.”  
  
In that moment, a dark grey SUV turned into their street and as it got closer, he recognized the two passengers. June was in the driver’s seat, wearing an oversized maroon jumper proclaiming ‘ _Johnson_ ’ over her usual preppy school-girl attire and her long dark hair in a sleek ponytail.  
  
Nora, in the passenger seat, had covered part of her wild curls under a maroon baseball cap and on her lap was something that looked suspiciously like a foam finger. Apparently, Henry had missed the memo on stocking up on fan gear. Not that he would have bothered to.  
  
“Oh my god, they look adorable!” Bea exclaimed way too loudly, making Henry cringe, sending a prayer to whomever might hear it that the girls did not hear his sister behaving like an 80-year-old British cat lady. “Shush!” he tried to sound threatening, but the mocking grin on her lips confirmed that she was torturing him on purpose.  
  
June stopped the car at the curb, both of them waving, although Henry suspected it was directed more at his sister than at him. Henry turned to give Bea a pointed look. “Bye, Bea!” He almost said _Stay_. Maybe what was working on his dog could also do wonders on his sister. Of course, she was way less well behaved than David was and followed him nonetheless to the car door, sticking her head in when he opened it.  
  
“Hi, you two! Very nice to finally meet you after hearing so many great things!” Henry was seriously contemplating to shove the door into her face. June grinned in a weird, knowing way. Maybe they were currently exchanging some secret big-sister-ritual. “Make sure this one has fun, all right? He can use that! Don’t dare to let him go home before at least 10 pm.” Henry couldn’t stop the furious blush taking over his face.  
  
“Will do!” Nora promised cheerily and Bea finally stepped back, letting him close the door. He watched her wave through the rear window, a devilish smirk still plastered on her face, until they turned onto the main street. As soon as June effortlessly merged into the beginning evening rush hour – Henry was extremely impressed by her driving skills – Nora turned in her seat, eyeing him with a dooming glance.  
  
Henry was confused. This was not about to change anytime soon. “Okay, Mister! When exactly did you plan to tell me your sister was super fucking hot?” He stared at her in disbelief, his mouth falling slightly open and June snorted from her spot behind the wheel. “Nora, ew!” He couldn’t believe she really said that and shuddered in disgust. “I will now forget that you said that and we will never again talk about it.”  
  
“We don’t have to talk about it. But we will so hang out at your place from now on the weekends.” Henry shook his head, half shocked half amused. “You will never set a foot into that apartment as long as I am living.” – “Oh, it’s so tragic when people die young. I make sure to give your sister solace when you’re gone.” She deadpanned and he couldn’t supress his laugh as much as he tried, accompanying it by a playful clap on the back of her head.  
  
“You are disgusting.” – “Thanks, I know.” June looked at them almost fondly, despite all the silliness, then she handed Henry the aux-chord. “Are you sure you want to give him the reins over the music? Is sad dudes whining really what we need right now?” Henry almost gave her another clap. “Yes. You tortured him enough for today.” Henry stuck out his tongue at her and chose Paramore from his playlist as if to prove that his taste in music was not _that_ one-dimensional.  
  
If Henry had thought the number of cars at school on a regular day was a lot, he was not prepared for the current state. The cars started to fill the street long before they even reached the grossly overcrowded space, a nearby meadow already being repurposed as a makeshift parking site. How were so many people interested in high school sports?  
  
Albeit the tricky parking situation June found them a spot relatively near to the entrance. While the thought of parallel parking alone gave Henry massive anxiety she seemed to be able to do it in her sleep. Therefore, it did not take them too long to pour into the field area together with the dozens of other people.  
  
They found their fellow GSA kids whom they were meeting up with quickly, partly thanks to vibrant hair colours detectable over long distances and in big crowds. They had saved them the seats Nora had earlier deemed the best via professional calculations. On the way to their group, they had to pass the field where the home team was currently doing some warming ups on the sidelines.   
  
They were almost in their full attire, all knee and elbow and shoulder pads. Only the helmets and rackets were missing. Were they called rackets? Bats? Mallets? Sticks? Henry had absolutely no clue about this game and he expected to be extraordinarily bored during the next hour or so – he did not even know how long it would take – with nothing to do except for watching sporty guys running. Which was not the worst evening program he admitted.  
  
He followed June and Nora, who had already started to make their way to the stands but couldn’t resist to risk another glance at the team. And curiously enough somehow he met Alex’s of all people. Why? Why would he, in a crowd of so many indistinct faces, look at him? For him?  
  
For a second he felt a naïve rush of dopamine coming, before he came back to realize how silly he was being. In which world would Alex Claremont-Diaz, captain of the lacrosse team, look at him? He was in the company of his best friend and his sister. Of course, he would look in his general direction.  
  
As if on cue, Nora next to him started waving and put her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice while shouting: “Hey Alex, break a leg!” He shook his head but grinned fondly, before he imitated her gesture to scream back “This is not theater, but thanks!” She gave him a thumbs up and then she proceeded to follow June up the stairs into the bleachers, Henry on her heels.  
  
June looked over her shoulder, shaking her head at Nora amusedly. “At least I do not have to endure those flaming good-luck-kisses anymore. That was really horrifying to watch.” The time the words needed to arrive in Henry’s brain, Nora used to fire back. “Start competing in something, and you might get some sweet good-luck-kisses, too, my darling Juniper.”  
  
Henry was so utterly shocked by the new information he had just gotten, that he did not even really process the rosy blush tinting June’s cheeks all of a sudden. But June obviously noted his confusion, readily jumping onto the opportunity to deflect. “Oh right, Henry. You missed out on Johnson’s most popular, whilst most obnoxious power couple. It was really something else.”  
  
Nora shook her head at her friend’s teasing remarks, shoving her shoulder playfully and with no real malice. Henry did not really know what to make out of the information that Nora and Alex had dated. Why did he even have to make something out of it? It was clearly not his business. It fit, didn’t it?  
  
No, actually he had no clue if it did because while he could say that he knew Nora quite well after a month of constantly hanging out with her, he had absolutely no clue how Alex was and if they were a match. And he had even less of a clue why it bothered him so much. It was absurd.  
  
June had finally reached their friends, but Nora was staying a few steps behind, turning to Henry. “Don’t worry. It’s been over for longer than it lasted. We are just not like that. We are meant to be friends.” He shamefully realized he in fact did feel a bit better hearing that so decidedly from her.  
  
Then he realized how awkward this was. Why did she tell him not to worry? “What should I worry about?” he voiced it out loud, but Nora just responded with a knowing smile that bugged him in an odd way, before she followed June.  
  
He had no choice but to follow, too. The presence of the others thankfully took of the edge a bit, distracting him with conversations about this or that. And when the game started, he found himself getting more and more sucked into it, although he did not fully understand everything happening. It was helping that everyone around him was very much feeling the spirit, cheering and shouting and reacting to the events down on the field.  
  
Even Felix, who Henry had come to know as a laid-back, chill person that never lost his calm was so enthusiastic, it was endearing to watch. In the final minutes, Henry found himself on the edge of his seat and when no other than Alex scored the final, match winning point, he almost stood up to cheer. Almost.  
  
The way out was way more pleasant than the way in, as everybody on their side was happy and excited. He had to admit, he somewhat got the appeal of team sports events now. He would probably never care for lacrosse as a game, but the collective experience of witnessing it had its amenities. It was comparable to the feeling at concerts he enjoyed so much.  
  
On the way to the cars their group decided to spend the rest of the evening at a nearby diner, the same one Bea had taken him out to their first week, which seemed to be the local place to be. A bit later, stuffed with an unholy amount of an excellent veggie burger, several variations of fried potatoes, topped of with milkshakes, he was rather pleased with his current American experience.  
  
The conversation had been pleasant but indistinct over the last few minutes, when Felix unexpectedly changed the topic: “So, who’s ready to go to Tyler Klein’s big afterparty?” Henry was caught off guard. For whatever reason he had not expected to have to go to a party tonight. Nobody had mentioned it before, and he had to admit the unlooked-for change in plans was stressing him out a bit.  
  
But all the others seemed keen to go and he had no desire to make himself a reputation as a party-pooper so early on. It probably was fun as soon as he was there. If he just repeated this mantra often enough he might convince himself. So, he just followed.  
  
He had heard the name Tyler Klein earlier, but couldn’t pinpoint anymore where from. Yet he quickly was taught that it apparently was one of the theatre kids with parents who frequently left him alone so that his house parties were notorious at this point.  
  
Notorious parties were so totally out of Henry’s comfort zone, but now it was too late to back down and he quickly found himself in the middle of lots of already completely sloshed teenagers in a solid middle class home with a red cup of beer in his hand. It felt a bit like someone fulfilled the American high school movie dream for him he certainly never had.  
  
Henry was not directly opposed to parties. He did not have a problem with crowds, he practically used to live at concerts back in London. But parties were stressing him in the point that there were entirely different dynamics at play, the constant obligation to socialise, to present yourself in the best light and maybe eventually climb the hierarchy.  
  
It was exhausting as it was and being the weird new kid practically nobody knew wasn’t exactly helping. It did take him approximately half an hour until he got overwhelmed by the noise of mediocre pop music and too many people talking at the same time, the humid air, the constant stench of alcohol.  
  
Nora and June were in an agitated discussion with some people he had never seen before and he did not want to interrupt, and the others had already disappeared into the crowd a while ago, so he stole away at the first opportunity, deciding to go for a bit of fresh air.   
  
The red cup of beer, slowly but steadily growing warmer to a point of not being pleasant anymore, not that it had been high quality beer to begin with, still in hand he wandered outside of the back door, entering a surprisingly empty patio facing a lovely garden with big trees, perfectly suited to read under them on a warm summer day.  
  
He had to admit he was a bit jealous of the ominous Tyler Klein for living here. This place looked a lot more comfortable than the sterile modern apartment his mother had chosen for them. He extremely missed their London flat, where he was aware of each creaking floorboard, knew the story behind every chipped edge.  
  
The sound of steps behind him broke his reverie. Henry turned, although not expecting to know the person coming outside, let alone having to acknowledge their presence with more than a quick nod. But he did know the new arrival. Or at least he faintly recognized him, not one hundred percent sure where from at first.  
  
When he proceeded to approach him, an almost shy half-smile on his face, Henry got it from the way he moved. He was one of the lacrosse players, precisely the one the girls had talked about last week when they watched the team practising.  
  
Something about him and Alex he couldn’t completely remember thanks to the beer slowing down his brain a bit. He also couldn’t recall his name for shit. He was already proud he managed to identify him at all. If he was honest, those jock-types all looked a bit of the same to him. With one exception. But that was really not the topic right now.  
  
“Pretty packed in there, huh?” Henry tried to not show his surprise too much. He somehow did not expect to be forced to make small talk. Before he could answer something similarly irrelevant to the question posed, the other spoke up again. “You’re Henry, right?”  
  
Henry cocked his head in confusion. How did he know? Why did he care? He really did not expect anybody to even notice him except for the handful of people he knew now, all credit to not his own networking skills but Nora and June. He could not really believe Nora and June would have talked to this guy about him. Maybe Alex had been running his mouth about him. That would seem like him.  
  
Henry almost forgot to nod affirmingly in time, being all caught up in his contemplations. “And you are?” The other smiled almost embarrassedly, clasping the back of his neck with his remarkably huge hand. “Oh right, sorry. I’m Liam.” Yes, that had definitely been the one they had talked about.  
  
“We are in the same chemistry class.” Were they? He had never noticed. “Nice to meet you,” Henry offered. Several seconds of silence later he realized he probably came off as a bit rude, so he decided to make an effort. “Good game earlier! You really destroyed them.”  
  
Liam broke out into a pleased grin, obviously happy to have a topic to talk about. “Yeah, we really couldn’t have asked for a better start to the season. But we have to work on defence a lot if we want to make it to the finals.” Henry had absolutely no clue about nor interest in team sports, just nodding along, nipping the newly sparked conversation right in the bud. But as it seemed, Liam was not willing to give up just yet.  
  
“You came with Nora and June and the GSA people, right?” Something about this was off, but he could not wrap his head around what exactly it was. Why would he just come here to chat him up with no real reason? Did someone send him? Was this a threat? He was not convinced. If so, it was the clumsiest threat in the history of humankind. “Yes.” His answer sounded like a question itself.  
  
“Cool. Are you?” Henry lifted one brow sceptically. He slowly could smell the direction this was going and felt vindicated in suspecting something in the first place. “Am I what? Part of the GSA?” Did Liam blush? It was probably just his eyes tricking him in the dark. “No. I mean…” He made a nondescript gesture with his hand. Henry of course knew exactly what he meant, but he was not having it.  
  
“What exactly is this, mate? An interrogation? What do you want from me? Tell me to stay away from you and your bros?” He even noticed himself how exceptionally off the Americanism sounded from his mouth, but he was talking himself into a rage and not stopping because of profanities. “Don’t worry, being gay is not contagious. You’re safe from me.”  
  
No, this was not the lighting. He was definitely blushing. And there was unmistakable hurt in his eyes. “Too late for that” he retorted bluntly and Henry could do nothing but gawp at him. Oh. _Oh_. _Fuck_. He needed quite a while to even get a word out, the silence around them growing thicker by the second, regardless of the muffled background noise coming from the house. “Shit, I’m sorry for being rude, man.”  
  
Liam shook his head. “Don’t sweat it! I was acting weird.” – You were,” Henry confirmed with a grin. Liam chuckled, his hand back at rubbing his neck. Henry really looked at him for the first time. He was a handsome guy, all strong and broad shouldered with a good amount of stubble, and he had a kind of attitude about him Henry couldn’t quite describe. Maybe that was what people meant with southern charm. He couldn’t explain it but something about these Texas boys was really doing it for him.  
  
Liam did not seem to realize Henry was ogling him and he was not exactly mad about it. “I am just always a bit baffled by people being openly out at school. That idea is unreal to me.” Henry felt something sink in his stomach. It was definitely sometimes exhausting to be out in an environment like high school, but he would not for a second want to trade it for having to hide himself.  
  
He suddenly felt honoured that Liam even told him his secret, hurrying to make sure he knew it was safe with him. “I would never tell anybody! I want you to know that.” The other nodded, a small grateful smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. His lips looked surprisingly soft.  
  
“It’s fine, I guess. I only have to bridge the year until college. There I will be out. Far away from this place. And my parents.” Henry’s heart ached for him. He had his abhorrent relatives, yes, but his closest circle, his family, had always been nothing but supportive.  
  
His mother might have been absent over the last two years, but before she had always made sure to give him the feeling, he was right just the way he was. His father, too. He had been absolutely perfect about it. He didn’t know how he would have survived without his parents loving him unconditionally. Without his sister ready to throw fists at everyone who just looked at him funny.  
  
“I’m sorry, man.” He rested his hand on Liam’s bicep, realizing how awkward that was a second too late. “If you ever want to talk…” He did forget how he wanted to end that sentence, if he wanted to end that sentence, as soon as Liam met his gaze with an expression he couldn’t fully read. “What if I don’t wanna talk?”  
  
And suddenly it dawned on him. The weird mood he had picked up on earlier. That had not been threatening. Liam had attempted to _flirt_ with him, admittedly not too skilfully. Was this really happening? The persistent blush on the other’s cheeks was confirming it was.  
  
Henry suddenly realized he was the one in control right now. Liam had boldly thrown the ball at him, to stay on brand with the sport metaphors, and it was completely up to him to decide what to do with it. Saying he did not like that shift in power was a lie. Saying Liam wasn’t attractive, and he himself wasn’t deprived of physical affection was an even bigger lie.  
  
Maybe it was the beer deciding, maybe it was the loneliness that had been festering in the background since the move. Maybe it was just the profane urge to live some cliché teenage experience, being hit up by a cute guy, doing something reckless without overthinking it.  
  
It did not matter why he did it. Henry looked over Liam’s shoulder to make sure nobody was watching them, but they were far away enough from the patio door to draw attention and everybody was too occupied with themselves anyways.  
  
Henry placed his cup on the railing and signalled Liam to follow him with a nod of his head before he started towards the garden, taking the steps down quickly to the narrow stone path, forcing himself not to look back but to pretend he was confident in what he was doing.  
  
He was heading for the giant oak tree he had admired earlier. It was far enough from the house to disguise in its shadows, merely lit by the faint shine of the streetlight at the other side of the tall hedge next to it and still close enough to hear if someone was coming outside.  
  
Henry only turned when he had the tree in his back, but he knew already that Liam had indeed followed him, had been hyperaware of his steps, his presence behind him. He leaned backwards a bit, his shoulders faintly touching the bark, its rough structure tangible even through the several layers of his clothes.  
  
This close he realized for the first time Liam was a bit taller than him, forcing him to slightly look up at him. “So… let’s not talk then.” When he did not react at first, Henry searched for his eyes to find any reaction there. To know what he should make out of this overall bizarre situation.  
  
When he found them, he realized Liam did not answer properly because he was too busy staring at his lips, the realisation making him instinctively dig his teeth slightly into the bottom one. He still took his time to lean forward, allowing plenty of time for the other boy to change his mind.  
  
He did not. He even moved toward him, shortening the distance until their lips met. It was a bit awkward at first, them just standing there, nobody daring to go any further. Henry almost laughed about the absurdity of the situation. When Liam after a few more seconds showed no signs of backing away or having second thoughts, Henry realized he had to take the helm for this situation to go anywhere.  
  
So, he started to move his lips, nothing too wild, just slow gentle motions, testing out what felt good and it did not take much longer for the other to finally get the gist and move with him. His earlier observation had been correct: Liam’s lips were in fact remarkably soft, a very pleasant contrast to the rough stubble slightly scratching his chin.  
  
Henry let himself fall back against the tree, bringing Liam with him by placing a hand in his neck, rubbing his fingers gently over the exact same place where he had held himself earlier. The sturdy stem felt reassuring, like it was backing him up.  
  
Liam’s hands went up to cup his cheeks and Henry almost grinned into the kiss. He was sweet. Attentive. Gentle. The thing was, right now Henry wanted anything but sweet and gentle. This was a drunk party hook up after all, not a romantic first date situation. And at the moment Henry’s brain was still way too able to worry and overthink things instead of being occupied by carnal desires alone.  
  
To change that, he pressed his fingers more insistently into the other’s skin and pulled him in closer, let his other hand rest on his hip. Henry couldn’t completely identify the soft noise Liam made when he pushed his tongue suggestively against his lip, but how he opened his mouth willingly, welcoming Henry, meeting his tongue, was more than telling.  
  
He tasted a bit like the same mediocre beer Henry had been drinking and faintly of something stronger, but it was not unpleasant as there were also notes of mint and sweet tea. The longer the kissing lasted, the more they were finding a shared rhythm, the more Henry managed to shut off his brain and just enjoy the pure physicality of another body. His warm skin pulsing under his touch. His wet, pleasing mouth.  
  
Henry lost his feeling of how much time passed, how long he stood there in the shadow of a tree in an unfamiliar garden, an unfamiliar country, kissing an unfamiliar boy. It was not at all how he had expected his Friday night to go, but it was surely not the worst turn of events.  
  
Liam was not exactly shy in his actions, but Henry knew he himself was in control. He was leading and he was enjoying it. When he pulled a now slightly kiss-swollen lip between his teeth, sinking them in, the other made a sound, surprised and hoarse and wanton and so good, that Henry couldn’t resist coaxing it out of him again and again.  
  
When he pulled Liam even closer, slipped his leg between his, he could unmistakably feel _how_ much of an effect their little tryst had on the other. It sent an exciting surge of dominance through his body. Knowing he was wanted. Desired.  
  
For a moment he thoroughly entertained the idea of letting this go a step further. To find out if Liam would be okay with letting him slide a hand into his jeans. Ask if he wanted to go somewhere more private. Maybe even risk it and try to smuggle him past his sister into his room.  
  
But as the thoughts started to manifest, he had to realise that, as much as Liam’s body was showing interest, his own wasn’t. It was strange. He enjoyed kissing him, feeling him. He should want this.  
  
Although people would probably not think of him like that as he came off reserved at first, Henry was a sexually open person. He liked sex. A lot. He did not consider sex to be something rigid and full of rules and only belonging to romantic relationships.  
  
He was very fine with casual things and it had been a good while since he had been with someone like this. He should crave it. He should react. Liam was hot. He was a good kisser. He hadn’t misbehaved in any way so far. Had given Henry not a single reason to not want this. And still. Something was missing.   
  
He could not put his finger on what it was but the longer he was aware of it the less he thought he should be doing what he was doing right now. They should probably stop if he didn’t want to give Liam false hopes. So, after a few more minutes, a few more kisses, he retreated. Brought some distance between their faces and then removed his hands from where they had wandered into Liam’s short hair.  
  
He could not read the expression on the other’s face, which wasn’t too unlikely as they practically did not know each other, for all the exchange of body fluids. “Don’t your friends start to miss you?” Liam’s mouth puckered up in a disarming smirk. “I think they are old enough to care for themselves for a bit.” Henry couldn’t stop himself from smiling back.  
  
Liam leaned forward again, resting his hand next to Henry’s head, catching his lips in another kiss. Henry let him. Now that the other was leading, setting the pace, it was entirely different. Softer. Sweeter. It felt good, but it was confusing Henry even more than the fervent snogging before.  
  
So again, it was him who stopped the kiss. “I think you should not risk them looking for you.” Liam got the gist. He nodded, although he did not seem happy. He took a step back and moved his hands down, another blush colouring his cheeks. When Henry realized he was attempting to adjust himself, he looked into another direction very pointedly very quickly.  
  
“Okay, I will head back inside then,” Liam stated when he seemed to have his problem under control. Henry nodded, not attempting to move, as he should wait a bit to not risk anybody to get suspicious of them entering the house together.  
  
Not that he really believed a single one of their wasted classmates was still able to recognize details like that. Maybe he needed just a minute in the dark on his own. That had been the reason for coming out here in the first place after all.  
  
He expected Liam to just turn around, but for some reason he hesitated. And he was becoming oddly nervous. “Uhm… if you want to.. maybe… we can hang out some time?” Henry hoped his surprise wasn’t too obvious on his face or if it was, that the dim light was doing him a favour. Liam sounded almost shy to ask it and at the same time very hopeful. It was adorable.  
  
“Sure.” He was not lying. Liam was cute. He was a likeable person. There was no reason not to ‘ _hang out_ ’ with him. And maybe a part of Henry wanted to believe that he was just in a weird mood tonight and he could give Liam – and himself – the reaction he deserved another day.  
  
“Can I have your number then?” It was really endearing how much difficulty he seemed to have to ask questions like that. Henry just smiled and held out his palm, telling him wordlessly to hand over his phone. After typing in the row of digits he gave it back and in this process, Liam caught his hand and made their fingers brush against each other.  
  
On a sudden burst of confidence, he stole a last kiss from Henry’s lips, making him giggle in surprise, shot him a lopsided grin and then turned around to make his way back to the house. Not without looking over his shoulder three times, making Henry shake his head in amusement.  
  
Soon he could not see him anymore, but he heard faint voices seconds later, too far away to recognize what they were saying or even who they belonged to. One had to be Liam, though. Henry knew for certain, he had to stay in his hiding place a while longer now, so he used the time to respond to some messages he had ignored for too long, including a detailed report of his little adventure with Liam addressed at Pez.  
  
When he had no unanswered texts left, he leant against the tree one more time, tilting his head back. The leaves and branches above him were only ghostly shapes in the darkness. Against all odds Henry smiled to himself. He did not plan for this to happen but there were definitely worse things than making out with a cute guy at a party.  
  
After a few moments more he decided it had been enough time to clear the air. That was a mistake. When he approached the patio, already too close to retreat unnoticedly, he realized there still was a person outside, very likely the same person that Liam had met earlier.  
  
And of the approximately over one hundred people at this party it had to be Alex Claremont-Diaz. Because who else would it be? He too was occupied with something on his phone, but when he heard Henry’s approaching steps, he looked up.  
  
And his expression immediately changed. Henry just managed to supress a groan. He was not in the mood to handle any kind of confrontation right now. As if on cue his heart started to speed up, his palms getting clammy so that he saw no solution but to shove them into his pockets. Why? Why was his body reacting so strongly to just seeing this arsehole. It was insane.  
  
Trying not to show his inner turmoil in his demeanour Henry just proceeded to ascend the stairs, planning to not acknowledge Alex’s presence and disappear into the house. He wasn’t that lucky. Before he could even reach the vicinity of the door Alex spoke up: “Where are you coming from?”  
  
Henry should just ignore him. Pretend he had not heard it. Not give in to the deliberate provocation. He just couldn’t. Something in that stupid voice was really rubbing him the wrong way. So, he stopped. Turned around with no rush, trying to appear calm and collected. “Why exactly is that your business?” He did not owe him any explanation.  
  
Alex scoffed, his facial features hardening. There was a faint blush on top of his perfectly carved cheekbones, likely from the alcohol he was consuming, just a hint against his brown skin tone, making it glow even more.  
  
He surely had been drinking, his usually very attentive eyes slightly narrowed as if his lids were heavier than usual. Or it could be those fucking eyelashes weighing them down. Henry wouldn’t be surprised if make-up companies wanted to use them as a model for their fake products.  
  
Only at the outskirts of his brain, admittedly also slightly affected by the alcohol, he realized how indescribably wrong his thoughts were. He had just been making out with a very cute guy, he could practically still taste him on his tongue. For half an hour he had been waiting for an appropriate reaction, for the rush to sweep over him.  
  
And here he stood facing fucking Alex Claremont-Diaz and his blood started to boil upon sight, out of rage and desperation and something way more embarrassing. How could it be that whenever he looked around there was this prick, bugging him, getting into his head like the most annoying tinnitus?  
  
“I just think it’s suspicious that you are lurking around here all alone.” Something in his taunt convinced Henry: He knew. He had seen Liam earlier and now him and somehow, he knew what was up. And he did not only know. He was bothered by it. Although it made absolutely no sense.  
  
Liam was not out so how would Alex even suspect. Unless… Henry remembered June and Nora talking about the two, about some weird conflict. What if…? No, that was ridiculous. Alex was straight. Alex had to be straight. He was making this up in his head.  
  
“Who are you? The party police?” Henry snapped. This was just a bad joke and he really was not in the mood for this bullshit. “I was taking a walk. Do you want to arrest me now?” Alex looked like he was about to fire back, but Henry was not having it. He was already too angry. At Alex, but even more at himself.  
  
“Listen, mate. I have absolutely no clue what bloody problem you have with me. But frankly, I don’t fucking care. I leave you be and you do the same. Okay? Great!”  
  
Without waiting for a response he turned and made his way inside, having to muster all his strength not so slam the door. He immediately ran against a thick wall of stuffiness and sweat and noise. It was terrible, making his skin crawl, his flight instincts kicking in. He wanted to back out, but he impossibly could ever go outside to face this person again. So, he had to get through the crowd.  
  
He did not know how to proceed from there on. How to get home. He just needed to get outside quick so he could at least try to think. Try to breathe. Ironically, his saviour from this horrid situation should be the sister of the guy that got him so angry in the first place. Thankfully, Henry did not directly connect the siblings in his brain. June was his friend and Alex was an idiot.  
  
“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” He did not answer, too afraid he would either just scream or burst into tears. He saw in June’s face she immediately sensed he was not okay. She did not ask. He had not been more thankful for anything in a while. “I am really tired. Nora gets a ride home from Alice later, but I am your ride, too. So, if you want to stay it’s okay, but if you don’t mind I’d like to leave soon.”  
  
Henry felt like he had never heard more beautiful words in his life. “Let’s get out of here.”


	5. Bleed American

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again my lovely people of various genders ;) 
> 
> Thanks for still being with me, I really hope this chapter satisfied those of you who were craving a bit more Alex-Henry-interaction. (Also sorry for taking a bit longer this time I sadly still have to attend uni and can't just write this full time.)
> 
> I appreciate all of you reading and commenting so much you have absoultely no idea <3

The rest of the weekend was unspectacular and relaxed, giving Henry enough space to process the events of Friday, catch up on his schoolwork and apart from that just read and listen to music. But there was no amount of time in the world that would have prepared him for what happened on Monday.  
  
Henry had not really talked to anybody but his sister the whole weekend, and even Bea had realized early that he was not in the mood for conversation. June had sent him a text on Saturday, asking if everything was fine. Apparently, he had done a way worse job than he had thought at pretending he was all right on their way home, just staring apathetically out of the passenger window. But secretly he was very touched that she cared enough to check in on him.  
  
He responded, reassuring her everything was great and he just had to sleep the alcohol off. It was only 90% a lie. There was another text on his phone he hadn’t answered yet. Because he was still indecisive on how. It was from Liam. If he was completely honest, Henry had never really expected him to text. Their little tête-à-tête seemed even more unrealistic now that some time had passed, and Henry was clueless what to make of it. So, he chose to do nothing at all.  
  
The absolute last person he expected to talk to on Monday was Alex Claremont-Diaz. During homeroom he gave him the typical cold shoulder-treatment, which Henry did not at all mind, appreciated it even, as he wanted nothing more desperately than to forget their little clash on Friday night and stop to obsessively think about it.  
  
But in politics later that day the other changed his strategy, resulting in a literal and not so literal shadow looming over Henry, who just wanted to sit at his desk and focus on his notes for the essay on ‘Performing and Deconstructing Gender in Virginia Woolf’s _Orlando_ ’ he was planning to write.  
  
He was caught by surprise when he lifted his head to see who was bothering him and sent a plethora of prayers to a God, he never really believed in, that the disinterested face he had practiced since entering teenage would hold up and not show the tangle of emotions this guy made him feel every fucking time with nothing but his mere existence.  
  
“Listen.” Alex seemed to change his mind and decided against standing in front of him, slipping into the seat next to his instead. Part of Henry wanted to ask him who had allowed him to sit there, or straight up request for him to leave. He had no clue why he was always getting so bloody defensive with this man.  
  
“No matter how much I think about it, I’m unable to make sense of what exactly you are planning, but I have enough of it. Stay away from my friends.” Henry usually did not rely on the word ‘flabbergasted’, but it sure was the only way to properly describe his feelings in this moment. Was Alex really and in all earnestness trying to threaten him?  
  
How dared he? “Have you finally lost the last tiny functioning bit of your mind?” Henry hissed, unwilling to hold any of his anger back any longer. This was absurd. The sheer audacity to make this about himself and above all bothering Henry with it? The self-entitlement was outrageous. And Henry was outraged.  
  
“I have no bloody idea since when _you_ became the spokesperson of other people. Or how any of this is your business. But maybe let _your ‘friends’_ ,” he went the extra mile to make quotation marks into the air, “decide for themselves whom they spend their time with. Last time I checked they did not belong to you. Now bugger off, will you?”  
  
Unfortunately, Alex was equally stubborn and agitated, unwilling to take a step back now. “Just keep your distance and you’re fine.” Henry had more than enough of his bullshit. “And what if I don’t?” He was way over the point of backing down now, provocatively withstanding Alex’s stare. This was all an empty threat anyways. He had absolutely nothing he could hold against him or do to damage him.  
  
Henry would never find out the answer because the moment Alex opened his mouth Rafael Luna entered the classroom, throwing his messenger bag onto the chair with a smack, making the class shut up immediately. His presence had this kind of effect.   
  
Luna was the type of teacher you sometimes couldn’t help asking yourself what he was doing at school. He was obviously extremely knowledgeable and a pundit in his field. But he did not seem to enjoy the teacher-student-contact all too much, never assimilating to the way to behave around them that was expected from him.  
  
Sometimes Henry asked himself how he got into this job and what he would be rather doing instead. Which did not mean he was a bad teacher at all. He was still in Henry’s top three.  
  
Even Alex did not dare to continue his ridiculous sabre-rattling with Luna present, who had performed a careless impromptu start to the lesson without even bothering to greet them. Henry had noticed in the past that Alex behaved different around their politics teacher.  
  
A bit less of his superiority-complex was showing and he constantly tried to present his best side with his comments, always on point, almost as if he looked up to the older man. Which was quite an impressive trick from the high horse he was sitting on.  
  
However, Henry should probably rethink all the positive things he recently thought about his teacher as he had apparently planned to ruin his life forever. “As the topic for the rest of the semester will be political participation it is only logical for you to actively take part in working the different forms out. You will do so in tandem teams that stay together until next semester.”  
  
A faint murmur started to arise, probably people asking around who they could partner up with. Henry was a bit lost. He had no connection to anyone in this class and therefore no designated person he wanted to work with. He just knew whom he at all cost wanted to avoid working with. But Luna was far from done.  
  
“We will look at your intermediate results regularly in plenary and in January there will be final presentations that make a good chunk of your grades. And as I can’t be bothered with you whining about and taking ages with the team building, I decided to assign the pairs myself, by the order you are sitting in. You are welcome.”  
  
The tone of the whispering going through the classroom changed, becoming a bit more irritated but Henry sat completely still. With the blood frozen in his veins, he couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. Alex next to him seemed similarly flash-freezed. This was all a very bad joke. Why today?  
  
Luna did not seem to care for the ruckus he caused within the class and started to call out the pairs and respective topics. Henry started to pray again, to prevent the inevitable. “Ben and Lindsey: elections. Abby and Joanna: voter turnout. Henry and Alex: grassroots movements. Jen and Tobey: protests.” Henry did not hear the announcement of the rest of the groups and topics over the rushing in his ears.  
  
But he certainly wasn’t alone in his disagreement with the assignment. Alex, who apparently had managed to shake his state of shock off, rose his hand as soon as Luna finished talking. “Are tandems really necessary? Some of us might work more effectively alone.”  
  
Luna seemed already fed up with the topic and he made no effort at all to hide it, leaning backwards against his desk and crossing his arms in an impressively exhausted manner, all accompanied by an exasperated sigh. “Yes, Alexander, they are. Because believe it or not, apart from the curriculum there is still other shit you should learn and teamwork is amongst it.”  
  
Henry asked himself, not for the first time, if he had a lot of trouble with sensitive parents complaining about his minimally crude manner of expression. “Besides, I have no nerve to listen to another of your hourlong monologues, so _you_ ,” this time he addressed Henry directly with a piercing glance, “better keep him in check.”  
  
Great, this was exactly the skill he imperatively needed for his CV: babysitting Alex Claremont-Diaz. Luna was getting a bunch of minus points for likability Henry was unsure he could ever recover from, his place in the top three becoming shaky.   
  
Henry had a hard time listening to the introduction on the different types of civil participation when his brain screamed at him that he did not have to take this class. AP politics was nothing he needed for the future he planned.  
  
He was just here because it had been recommended to him just as literature and history had been, according to his past grades – the ones from last year due to his mother’s efforts not included – and he had seen no reason to not take the classes, as they interested him. Right now, the best reason to quit sat right next to him.  
  
When the bell rang Alex lost no time to jump up, shove all his stuff into his backpack and head for the door as if haunted. Henry was not having it. Although everything in him wanted to abandon the project he would never leave the field to his personal antagonist.  
  
“Wait! We need to fix an appointment to work on this.” Alex did not even stop in his tracks to talk to him. “I’ll text you.” – “You don’t have my number.” – “I’ll ask June.”  
  
As soon as he was out the door Henry let his head fall to the desk, not minding the dull pain shooting through his head from the place where his forehead hit the hard surface. This was his personal nightmare coming to life.  
  
How did he deserve this? He would rather do fifty extra assignments in physics than work with this arrogant prick for the next months. Unfortunately, it was not his choice to make.  
  
*****  
  
Alex texted him his schedule on Tuesday, not refraining from additionally instructing him to do some research in preparation, which made Henry rather furious. As if he wouldn’t have done so either way.  
  
Trying to reconcile their free slots taught Henry one thing: as much as he would have loved to just meet up at the library after school and get it over with, there was absolutely no free slot during the week they shared. Leaving only the weekend, where the school was closed.  
  
For exactly that reason Henry found himself on Saturday morning on the steps to the Claremont-Diaz home. It was a rather nice house, nothing fancy or over the top but he liked that. And it was, how Henry noticed, only one block away from school. It made sense now that Alex and June never came to school by car. They could just walk.  
  
It took a while for the sound of steps to appear behind the door after Henry rang the doorbell with admittedly shaky fingers, he immediately had to hide in the pockets of the black hoodie he was wearing.  
  
It had the word _Weird!_ in wonky pink letters printed on the top right side. Weird was an understatement. The whole situation gave him hives and he cursed Rafael Luna for putting him in this plight.  
  
Why did Alex take so long to open the door? Did he have to search for a fitting knife first? At exactly that moment the door swung open, revealing Alex, thankfully not reenacting some Hitchcock movie. Yet.  
  
Instead, he was wearing dark jeans and a burgundy V-neck T-shirt that complemented his complexion in an astounding way and fit a bit too tightly around his biceps. Especially when he was crossing his arms like he was currently doing.  
  
Henry suddenly wished Alex had in fact stabbed him with a knife. If his life ended, the horrible thoughts would at least go away. Alex made a step to the side, giving Henry a cue to enter. No word of greeting or exchange of pleasantries. Shocking.  
  
Henry bit his tongue to not shoot something like _‘Why thank you, Alexander. I wish you a wonderful day, too. I’m all right, thanks for asking, how are you?’_ in his direction. He needed all his energy to survive this. No resources left for sarcasm.  
  
It was not just mildly awkward, standing in the hallway of this house, not talking. Henry started to rack his brain what he could do to terminate the uncomfortable silence, but he did not really see any opportunities, as it was Alex’s house and therefore Alex’s obligation to tell him where to go. He would surely not invite himself anywhere on his own and risk another dispute.  
  
Thankfully, after a moment that felt like three days, Alex remembered his role as a host and gestured Henry to follow him to the stairway. Without bothering to turn around he explained: “I actually planned for us to work at the bigger table in the living room as my parents should be both at appointments. But they apparently changed their plans, so my room must suffice”  
  
Henry nodded, realising too late the other wouldn’t see, and followed him up the stairs. He wasn’t all too interested in his reaction anyways. Henry tried very deliberately not to think about the disturbing feeling in his chest that had appeared as soon as Alex had mentioned his room and even more deliberately not to look at his arse while he ascended the stairs in front of him. Embarrassingly, the latter task was the more difficult of the two. Someone needed to kill him, soon.  
  
Alex led him down a hallway where all the doors were closed, heading for the last one on the left. Opposite of it there was a bright yellow _J_ with turquoise polka dots sticking to the dark wood, looking like it had been there for over a decade. Henry wished he could just enter June’s room instead and hang out with her, discussing their favourite Jane Austen works or something. Sadly, that was not an option. So, he resigned himself to his fate and followed Alex instead.  
  
It wasn’t a huge room, but big enough to be inhabited by a teenager. Apart from a suspiciously neatly made bed the centrepiece of the furnishing was definitely the considerable desk beneath the window.  
  
It wasn’t exactly cluttered, but the several piles on it indicated that Alex was quite busy – which was not at all a surprise – as well as not as perfectly organized in his whole being as his Mister-Perfect façade would suggest. Which was in a way relieving.  
  
As Alex sat down on the bed, Henry figured his place was at the desk. So, he made his way over to the corresponding chair, dropping his backpack to the floor, not without taking all of the room in. Interior design was not exactly Alex’s strong suit as the most striking elements of décor were innumerable trophies on several shelves.  
  
“Have you won all of these?” Henry did not know why he asked. There was no need to feed into Alex’s already superhuman ego, especially as he hadn’t uttered a single word so far. And as expected of him, the other reacted not politely.  
  
“No. They just chose me to store them as there was no place at school anymore.” His voice dripped with mockery. At first Henry wanted to feel offended by the sarcasm. Then he realized he had simply no energy left for that. So, he chose a vastly different tactic instead.  
  
Without averting his eyes from one of the trophy-displays he responded: “Aw, that’s so sweet. That they at least let you contribute in this way, when you have no use to the team in any other department.” He must have caught Alex by surprise because instead of retorting something more or less latently insulting he… laughed?  
  
Did Henry hallucinate? No, Alex Claremont-Diaz seriously laughed about a stupid joke he himself had made. And what a laugh it was, full and melodious but somehow still a bit throaty. Before Henry could start writing sonnets about it, it stopped, faster than it started and Alex’s face dropped. As if he had suddenly realized whose joke he had dared to laugh about.  
  
He cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably and then stood up, aiming at one item inside the room Henry hadn’t noticed yet: a flipchart. Wherever he had found that. Maybe it was an inherent part of his furniture. Henry would not wonder too much. “I already started a mind map.” Of course, he had.  
  
“Ok let me pull up my research, then we can see how to augment it.” He got his laptop out of his backpack and while it booted up looked at Alex’s draft. There were several points he had written down, too, but also several lines of thought he hadn’t had yet.  
  
It was quite impressive, if he were honest, and he was thanking himself silently that he had put in enough hours during the last week to do his own research and dive deeply into the topic, so that he would not fall short next to Alex’s excellent work now, proving him right in all the belittling things he probably thought about his intellect.  
  
Henry hated presentations. He was not at all bad at them, but the amount of anxiety paining him beforehand, sometimes for weeks, was never worth the good grades he got as soon as the critical moment was there, and he magically managed to tell himself he wasn’t anxious or even nervous and faked some confidence.  
  
He desperately needed to channel some of that fake confidence now, because somehow this situation, where he just needed to tell his classmate about the things he found out, felt worse than a final. It was probably owed to the specific classmate at hand.  
  
Thankfully, his voice came out even and relaxed when he finally could open his document to approve the points Alex had made, carry some of them forward and even add a few new thoughts. At first Alex just sat there, his arms once again crossed in front of his chest, but at one point he got up and started to add Henry’s points to the chart. It almost felt like a white flag.  
  
It was not an entirely smooth start. The conversation was not flawlessly proceeding, the breaks of silence still thick and awkward when one made a point, and the other did not immediately want to jump on it. But the longer they worked together, the more they delved into the topic, the more natural their workflow became. This was most likely the oddest truce in the history of humankind.  
  
And it was of course fragile. After over an hour of collecting points, discussing them, and putting them into a logical order they unexpectedly had managed to agree on a concept for the project.  
  
Amongst other things that meant including a concrete real world example of a grassroots movement to explain the mechanisms they wanted to expound beforehand on a theoretical level in a more tangible way.  
  
“I think we should choose something local. Big movements like ‘Me too’ are interesting and extremely important, but I think it has more relevance for a school project to explain something even closer to our classmates’ reality of life. Therefore, I’d say definitely something from Texas, maybe even Austin, but I want to do more detailed research before we decide on that.”  
  
Henry did not know why he said the next thing. He shouldn’t have. Alex was clearly passionate about this factor of their project and he should just have let him have it and keep his stupid mouth shut. But somehow the words had left him before he could really think about it. “There are progressive political movements here? Who would have thought?”  
  
He recognized it himself as his words of disdain swirled through the air, poisoning their newly established ceasefire. Alex’s expression went hard in the matter of seconds and he crossed his arms again, after they had been relaxedly hanging down at his sides for the majority of the last hour. “Oh, wow. Would you look at the European arrogance right there. What a surprise.”  
  
Henry knew he was right. His statement had been arrogant. But for whatever stupid reason he could not just back off and apologize but had to bury himself even deeper into the hole he had dug for himself. “I did not say Europe is perfect. It is by no means. But you are not an out gay guy at a Texan high school, so maybe back off a bit. It’s not that much fun.”  
  
“Was your school in England really so much better?” Henry swallowed. Of course, it was not. As Johnson was actually really progressive with the GSA and all it was at times even better than an all-boys environment. Still, after months away from home it had not stopped to feel different to be himself around here. More like a hazard.  
  
School aside, it was obvious that it was easier to express himself freely in the streets of a metropolis like London, but he had not properly been to Austin yet. Could not judge how it would be there. It was simply wrong to compare a British megacity to a Texan suburb. Homophobia was a society problem, not a Texas problem. He looked to the side, not able to bite the bullet and admit Alex was right.  
  
Weirdly enough, Alex did not get as angry and agitated as Henry would have expected him to, his words passionate but calm. “I am not saying what you are experiencing is not true. And I get that a lot of parts really need improvement. I would never belittle that. I mean look at me, it’s not that I don’t have my very own fair share of disgusting experiences.”  
  
Henry was an arsehole. Seeing Alex as immensely privileged for his straightness and therefore eliminating all the struggles he faced because of racial bias was definitely one of his worst moments. But Alex wasn’t even close to being finished yet.  
  
“But I hate the generalizing. The writing Texas off as the hillbilly state where only racist, queerphobic and overall bigoted assholes shoot at things in their backyard. Yes, that exists and it’s terrible. But that exists in New York or California, or Washington or wherever you deem more progressive, too. And probably even in London. Or Paris or Berlin. Minus the shooting, okay. I give you that.”  
  
“It’s just: people love to write off certain states, so they don’t have to care about them anymore. But what about the marginalized people in Texas? The Black and Latinx communities? Queer people? Trans people? Immigrants? People who exist in the intersections between all of these identities? Who will think of them?”  
  
“You know how many people in Texas voted democratic the last election? Approximately over 3,8 million. That’s about twice as much as in Washington or Massachusetts. But those are deemed Blue states, progressive states. The people who want change and work for it around here are completely forgotten.” He apparently realized he had given an entire speech and awkwardly clasped his hand around his neck.  
  
Henry felt the heat creeping up his cheeks, probably painting them an unflattering blotchy pink pattern, and needed to use a lot of strength to not look down, to stand up to Alex’s rightfully judging glance instead. He fucked up, he at least needed to own up to it, even if that meant letting Alex see his embarrassment.  
  
“That is why I am concerned about this way of thinking. It does not mean the homophobia you experience at school or elsewhere is in any way excusable. And I am sorry. That I have never said anything. Not that you would need it. You are very impressively standing up for yourself. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone. I will do better.”  
  
Henry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He still got whiplash from Alex’s passionate speech. That was not new. It was in fact a rather regular occurrence during politics as well as the one speech of student body president Alex Henry had witnessed so far.  
  
Alex made excellent point over excellent point in a wonderfully elaborate way and Henry sat there, listening in awe. Internally, of course. He could have never shown this openly, as he had to keep up his hatred for the other boy.  
  
But something told him they had moved past that point now. Not in his dreams he would have expected Alexander Claremont-Diaz to apologize to him. Even less for a thing he did not even consider necessary of an apology as he was just so used to it by now. All the other nice things Alex had said to him Henry didn’t even dare to start processing.  
  
“No, stop!” Alex looked at him warily, probably expecting Henry to protest. That was not at all what he was planning. “I have to apologize, not you. You are right. I acted like an ignorant prick and I should have thought it through way more. Sorry. Really.”  
  
Alex looked as surprised as Henry must have moments ago. But Henry was not finished yet. More words wanted to make their way out in the open. Things he had never directly admitted to in front of anybody apart from maybe his sister.  
  
“You are right. School in London was not at all better than here. People are dicks everywhere. But at home, I had an entirely different safety net. Mainly through Pez, my best friend. It’s not like I am alone here. Your sister and Nora and everyone are amazing, but… it’s just different? I don’t know. Anyhow, it’s no excuse for generalising.”  
  
He couldn’t remember the last time he had made himself this vulnerable in front of another person. Peeled all the carefully assembled layers of his façade back and showed his deepest insecurities. That he had done it in front of Alex of all people was unexpected to say the least. Still, it was the minimum he could do after behaving like a cocksure idiot.  
  
Alex did not respond. But he also did not look away, so they sat there, staring at each other across the room, the distance between them, while no physical change had been made, reduced by a good amount.  
  
Henry realized for the first time what a fascinating deep brown shade Alex’s eyes were. They were so vibrant, he was unable to look away. Until it got too awkward all of a sudden and both of them simultaneously looked at their respective laptop screens. For a while an occasional clicking sound was the only thing breaking the thick silence in the room.  
  
Henry suddenly realized this was his only chance to get the thing out of the way that had been agonizing him for over a month now. “Hey, Alex?” Alex raised his eyes, a questioning look on his face. “I need to apologize for one more thing.” Now said look became downright puzzled.  
  
Henry sighed, summoning up all his courage. “For what happened on the first day of school. It really was my fault, and I should have said this way sooner.”  
  
If he had thought Alex’s expression could not become more dumbfounded, he was wrong. He needed a few moments to speak. “Why are you saying this?” Now Henry was the confused one. He had thought that was rather obvious. “I know June told you nothing really happened. So why?”  
  
“That does not really make a difference, does it? I mean I am really glad I did not hit you but… I could have and that was my fault. So, I have to own up to it. Also… I reacted horribly. I did not even say sorry. I was a dick. And I probably ruined your first day. So: Sorry! Really!”  
  
“That was not ruined by you, don’t worry.” He said it so quietly and towards the ground, that Henry wasn’t entirely sure he heard it right. He had no time to ask again and maybe he would not have dared to anyway. “Thank you for saying this. I appreciate it. And I am also sorry for lashing out at you. That might have been a bit much.”  
  
Henry had by no means expected this. He just managed to nod. “Can we please forget about this now and never speak of it again?” Alex added with a smirk. “Gladly!”  
  
Henry had never given too much thought to the expression ‘clearing the air’ but somehow it felt quite literal at the moment. Like he could suddenly breathe a lot easier than before. The first time in weeks he felt a significant chunk of the weight on his chest fall off, making him feel almost lightheaded.  
  
They found back into their working rhythm after that, quickly writing down their structure and further approach, starting to map out the general content as well as how they wanted to present it on Monday in class. They could have easily finished the whole task that afternoon. Wouldn’t their amicable silence have been interrupted.  
  
At first it was the banging of a door. Henry did not think anything of it at first, but Alex immediately stopped typing, so abruptly even Henry noticed it and looked up to see if something was wrong. His whole posture had changed, he seemed alert and tense where he had been at ease just seconds ago.  
  
Then the yelling started. Although, yelling was maybe the wrong word. There was no over the top screaming, just very loud voices and no doubt that the people in question were in a very severe argument. One did not need to be a genius to understand those were Alex’s parents fighting and Henry tried very hard not to listen what they were saying. It was not his business.  
  
Alex seemed to think the same thing, as he jumped up the next second and headed towards the door, stopping in front of it, his hand on the handle. “You need to go.” The confusion must have been obvious on Henry’s face. Alex’s voice was so strident, it was like the last few hours had never happened and they were back at the point of hating each other’s guts.  
  
Henry was overwhelmed with the situation and therefore unable to process it completely, let alone react adequately. He could just blink at Alex in confusion. “Henry, leave! Now!” The harsh words full of anger and snideness finally got him moving. He quickly flipped his laptop shut, letting it slide into the backpack while having to firmly bite down on his tongue to keep the tears at bay that threatened to well up at the aggressive treatment.  
  
Alex almost shoved him down the stairs to the door. When he opened it, Henry tried to talk to him once more. They at least needed to schedule the next time they would work on the project. He only managed “Alex, I…” then he had the door in his face.  
  
Henry stood there, alone on an unfamiliar street. And he was more confused than ever.


	6. In Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we are making progress, friends ;)
> 
> CW: mentions of mental illness, death/ loss and alcohol abuse. Very, very brief and not graphic but I thought better safe than sorry

**_Alex_** _  
Hey. Sorry about earlier. I did not mean to rush you out like that, but I forgot I needed to be somewhere. I can finish the part we were working on alone and then we reschedule next week for the next step, okay?_  
9:21 pm  
  
**_Henry_** _  
no problem, really! also, you don’t have to do it on your own. this is a project for us to learn how to work in a team. ‘shit’ like that, remember? i’m free all day tomorrow, so you can come over if you like._  
9:25 pm  
  
*****  
  
And that was how Henry ended up searching the apartment for any compromising material for the fifth time on a Sunday morning. He had done the biggest part of the tidying and cleaning last night, as soon as Alex had confirmed he would come over by ten, but somehow, he still felt like there was something wrong.  
  
He did not actually think Alex would search for something to hold against him. At least he hoped they were past that point after the progress they had made yesterday. He couldn’t be entirely sure of course, not after the way their meet-up had ended.  
  
He still felt odd about it, unsure to describe his feelings. He suspected to know why Alex reacted the abrasive way he had, that there were some family problems that had him on edge. And that was more than fair.  
  
But there still was a chance left that he just had remembered how much he hated Henry and wanted to get rid of him.  
  
It had helped a bit to stop by the store instead of directly heading home and buying his own weight in chocolate ice cream and chocolate bars and chocolate biscuits.  
  
Eating your feelings was always a good plan, just as dipping the biscuits directly in the ice cream container while watching recordings from some of the best shows he had ever gone to, online and cuddling with David. He needed to wallow from time to time.  
  
So, he had been in a slightly better place when Alex’s text arrived. It still did a better job to make him feel better than any amount of chocolate and concert videos ever could. Even though his sad excuse was clearly nothing but that, it was a good sign that he had reached out to him at all, wasn’t it?  
  
Or it was just an act of politeness and he was planning to stay as far away from Henry as he could from now on, making them work separately and communicate strictly digitally. That was a very probable scenario, too.  
  
Sadly, Henry’s fingers had acted faster than his anxiety for once, so his offer to finish their work together the next day had been out in the open only a few minutes later.  
  
That it took Alex almost half an hour to reply did not help the panic rising in his chest, making him contemplate to write a follow-up, revoking the suggestion, making up a lie that he completely forgot about an important thing he had to do instead.  
  
He had drafted out the fifth try when Alex’s message popped up on his screen, agreeing that it was indeed a great idea and setting a time. Cleaning the whole apartment until 2 o’ clock was just the logical consequence, especially as no one was there to stop him.  
  
Bea had some stuff to do at uni and his mother apparently had important contracts to finish. He did not mind too much anymore. At least she would not complain about the music playing that late.  
  
Sadly enough, his late-night cleaning party did not prevent him from waking up at six. After rolling around for half an hour, unsuccessfully forcing himself back to sleep, he gave in to his destiny and got up to take a shower, have breakfast and then spend an unholy and embarrassing amount of time trying on different outfits, not being satisfied with anything he owned.  
  
He ultimately settled for the regular black jeans and a black and white striped long sleeve that was a bit oversize so he could tug it in.  
  
He accessorized with a chunky belt with round studs, the obligatory chain attached to it, another chain with a padlock around his neck as well as several silver rings on his fingers, the nails freshly painted black yesterday evening.  
  
It was an okay look. And it shouldn’t matter anyway. Knowing that he was making a fool of himself did not keep him from spending even more time on his hair.  
  
Miraculously it behaved in his favour for a change and he managed to bring it into an acceptable form even without having to straighten his natural waves. Which he preferred, it just usually never happened.  
  
Now, after too much time and effort had been spent on his appearance already, there was really not much left to do apart from wandering around and checking every little detail obsessively.  
  
He had even already set up their workspace in the living room, his laptop ready to go and some water, juice and glasses at hand.  
  
The exact moment he looked at his phone to check the time it changed to ten. At the same time the doorbell rang, a shrill, bloodcurdling sound Henry did not want to get used to. He took a deep breath, unwilling to reflect on why in hell he was so fucking nervous, and then made his way for the door.  
  
It was almost surreal to find Alex in front of his apartment door. A part of him most likely still had thought this was all a hoax. But there he was, in his full glory and technicolour.  
  
Somehow the morning light reflected off his light brown skin and dark curls, making him shine. Henry did not secretly call him Golden Boy for nothing.  
  
He was standing there, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his navy-blue shorts. Because apparently it was perfectly possible in Texas to walk around in shorts and T-Shirt-sleeves in the middle of October.  
  
He was wearing a white polo shirt with the Nike logo embroidered on its chest, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a lopsided smile that was somehow different to his usual ones. Almost less cocky.  
  
The moment Henry started to internally cursing himself for staring he realized he was not the only one who did so. Alex had fixed his eyes at a very specific point: his nose. Without thinking Henry brought his hand to the place in question, as if to check whether he had something disgusting in his face.  
  
When his fingers made contact with the small piece of metal that was his septum piercing, he realized what Alex had been staring at and it made him simultaneously laugh and blush just a tiny bit. “Oh, I forgot I did not hide it today. “  
  
“We made a deal with my Mum when I was sixteen: I could get my nose pierced if I promised to not openly show it as long as I was in school,” he explained where the small horseshoe in his nose was suddenly coming from.  
  
He was aware that he was not exactly bound to the contract anymore, as he had turned eighteen several months ago. The reason he still stuck to the agreement was the third party involved.  
  
His father had actually been the one to suggest the compromise. It felt right to not break it, even just for him. His mother did not really seem to care anymore.  
  
It was possible that she had just given up a bit more with every ear piercing he had gotten. Henry had a small black gauge in his left side as well as a slim silver ring behind it and an industrial through the top of the ear.  
  
On the right there were two rings trough the lobe as well as three helix piercings. His mother had surrendered regarding piercings but for the tattoo he had to wait for his birthday. At least for the bigger one.  
  
Although feeling a little bit awkward after his weird little explanation Henry stepped to the side to let Alex enter the flat, closing the door behind him and then heading to the right from the entryway, attempting to lead him to their designated workspace.  
  
Just as they arrived in the spacious living area, directly attached to the open kitchen, David waddled in from the back door where he had been in the small garden that could be barely called that as it was nothing more than a piece of lawn.  
  
As soon as he got aware of Alex, he padded towards him, sniffing his bare calves. Henry couldn’t blame him, he understood the appeal.  
  
Alex laughed and got to one knee, reaching his hand out to let the beagle inspect it. When he seemed to approve, he proceeded to ruffle the fur behind his ears. “And who are you?”  
  
“That’s David.” Henry responded from the place he was watching them, unwilling to identify the fluttering feeling blooming in his chest at the sight. Alex looked up at him, the disapproval clear on his face. “ _David?_ Who calls a dog David?”  
  
Henry crossed his arms in mock defence. “What? Bea and I had to agree on a name. We both wanted an epic musical icon, but she would not let me name him Gerard, no matter how much I argued. So, we found a compromise in this.”  
  
Alex still looked clueless. “Bowie, Alex? Who else?” Alex’s look got even more confused for a second before he shook his head, as if it was too exhausting to keep this topic going.  
  
After a while David lost his interest in the visitor and went his way, so that Alex could stand up again seemingly taking in his surroundings completely for the first time. “Nice apartment,” he stated.  
  
Henry was not sure if it was as real compliment or some sort of insult in disguise. He felt as if he never could be with the other boy. “You think so? I am not really convinced of this place.”  
  
As soon as the words had left his mouth, he realized how pretentious and ungrateful he was acting, instantly feeling abashed about it. Some people would kill for a place like this and he was constantly complaining.  
  
“I sound like a brat, huh? You can say it, it’s true.” Alex did not say it, but his smirk did not need a verbal approval. “It is a great flat, you are right, and I should appreciate it more. It’s just so different to the one at home, you know? The one I lived in all my life. I miss it, that’s all.”  
  
He realized he was getting way too real again but couldn’t stop himself. Something about Alex’s presence made him want to lay everything out open, not hide anymore.  
  
“But that is no reason to be ungrateful. It would probably help if it did not look like a show house, but as two of the people living here have no time for decorating and I don’t feel like I can do it on my own it will most likely stay like that.”  
  
The lopsided grin forming on Alex’s lips did not bode well for Henry and he did not disappoint. “Well, it’s probably for the better if they don’t let you decorate this place. Otherwise, they will have to live with the walls painted black and posters of My Chemical Romance everywhere.”  
  
Henry lifted one eyebrow, not amused about the jab at his style. “Oh, you think so?” Without a further comment he headed into the other direction down the hallway and opened the door to his room, waiting for Alex to come and look and be proven wrong.  
  
As opposed to Henry’s wardrobe his room was mostly light, natural coloured and white furniture, with small black details only here and there.  
  
There was half a wall next to the door indeed covered in posters, but it was a variety of reminiscences of shows and festivals he had been to – a few of them passing into his possession not in an entirely legal way – rather than singular bands.  
  
The other walls were left white, except for the one next to the Queen Size bed, which he had painted in a light powdery blue.  
  
Affixed to it there were several shelves, one of it with his proudest possession: his record player. Underneath the shelves there was an array of photos and several artworks he liked, surrounded by fairy lights.  
  
On the wall above the bed, over a second string of fairy lights, he had hung up a collection of his favourite record sleeves alternating with the vinyl, although not the corresponding records. He would never put the music he loved listening to on a wall unprotected.  
  
Those were mostly old flea market finds he bought in a bunch because they were not working anymore. The real discs were safely stored in a shelf, almost as filled to the brim as the bookshelf next to it, whereas not quite as overflowing, some piles already spilling onto the floor.  
  
He grinned when he saw the surprise on Alex’s face, just because it was fun to fail his expectations. To contradict the image he seemed to have created of him.   
  
He always complained about the flat, but he really liked his room, mostly because it was a more or less direct replica of the one, he had inhabited in London, just the ceiling beams and plank floors were missing.  
  
Alex made a few tentative steps into the room, looking around. Henry had no desire to stop him. After all he had spent 2 hours on tidying up everything thoroughly, there was nothing left to hide. Alex stopped in front of the vinyl shelf, where his guitar was leaning. “Do you play?”  
  
Henry could by no means resist: “No. I’m just storing it here in case somebody comes by and wants to play it.” Alex turned his head around. “Little shit.” Somehow, the insult sounded fond. Except, this was Alex and in no world, not even any existing parallel universe, he would be fond of Henry of all people.  
  
“I play a bit,” he offered to make up for the joke. “But not really seriously. I started with piano lessons when I was five and did not stop going until last year, so I am more secure at that. The guitar has always just been a silly thing for fun. My sister is the pro.”  
  
His real love were the drums though. He had sadly never had a set for himself and even if, he most likely wouldn’t have convinced his mother to ship it to the US.  
  
“Can you play something?” Henry hesitated for a second, revelling in the weirdness of the situation at hand. Then he shrugged, picked up the guitar and took it with him to the bed, where he sat down, legs crossed, propping it up on one knee and starting to do at least a bit of coarse tuning.  
  
“Any wishes?” - “Surprise me.” Henry reflected his repertoire for a second, then he grinned. He wanted a surprise; he could have it. In the beginning it was just some relatively monotone strumming of chords. It was quite recognizable still, but Henry knew for a fact Alex would never estimate him choosing this song.  
  
When he reached the bridge, weaving in the distinct melody, Alex gasped audibly. “Is that fucking _Poker Face_?” Henry grinned up at him, seamlessly changing into the chorus, his fingers plucking the iconic sequence of notes.  
  
In reality, they were both doing a horrible job at said poker face right now. Alex hadn’t come back from his bewilderment yet and Henry was clearly too pleased with himself.  
  
“What? Don’t tell me you did not expect this from me.” Alex shook his head in amusement. “Not really, no.” – “Oh come on Alex, it’s Gaga! Don’t be delusional. Would you have preferred _Alejandro_?”  
  
“You’re a dork,” Alex chuckled but again without the distinct heat the derogatory things he would shoot into Henry’s direction used to have. The same kind of fondness settled in, filling the space between them, smoothing out the edges of weeklong taunts and digs and friction.  
  
It took him a while to realize this was awkward. Them just looking at each other, smiling, no one breaking the eye contact. It took another moment to really end the situation because, all awkwardness aside, it felt good. Comfortable. Familiar.  
  
The acrobatics his stomach started to perform were concerning, though, so Henry finally stood up, put the guitar back in its place and made his way for the door. “Come on, we don’t deserve music breaks if we don’t actually do the work.”  
  
In conclusion they went back to the living room, picking up where they left off yesterday and had no problem getting quickly into their productive state again. Henry had been perfectly focused until he heard a key opening the front door. Shit. He had been so sure nobody would be home today.  
  
He wasn’t set on whom would be the worse option. His mother could become weird about having someone in the house without notifying her. Bea was overall more laid back. But with her there was the very probable chance of a huge embarrassment.  
  
“Hello? Henry, are you home?” It was Bea, her strong, slightly raspy voice easily travelling through the whole apartment. ”Living room!” he shouted back, bracing himself for an incredibly awkward moment.  
  
It took suspiciously long before her bright lavender head peeked through the entryway, quickly followed by the rest of her body, dressed in a short denim skirt, fishnet tights and a Sleater-Kinney-shirt.  
  
Her expression changed a bit when she noticed Alex, the tiniest flicker of curiosity appearing on her face. “Oh, hi! I did not know you had a visitor.” – “I did not know you would be home today. Don’t you have performances the whole weekend?”  
  
He realized he sounded defensive. It was ridiculous, as he was doing exactly nothing wrong. He was having a classmate over to work on a mandatory project. Nothing about this was dodgy, so why did he feel as if he had to explain himself?  
  
Bea walked over to the fridge and took out a can of soda. “I have. I just forgot my flash drive” she held up a little object “that has all of the audio samples on it. I had to come and get it. And what are you two up to?”  
  
“Politics project,” Henry answered, still not able to get rid of the little bit of defiance in his voice. The boy next to him was way more well behaved apparently. “Hi, I’m Alex. Nice to meet you! I hope we are not bothering you!” Of course, he needed to use all his charm on her.  
  
“Oh don’t worry, honey, I’m not staying for too long either way, my show starts at six.” And to Henry’s absolute disbelief Alex seriously proceeded to ask her about the type of show she was playing, the topic of her work.  
  
He was navigating the silly little small talk as professionally as Henry had ever witnessed a person doing so. It was impressive. And a bit infuriating. Why was he so bloody good at this?  
  
Henry could just sit and watch and listen, unable to insert himself into the easy-going conversation. He was a mess. And even worse, he knew Bea was completely aware who Alex was.  
  
He may have ranted one or sixteen times too often about him in front of her. And a part of him practically waited for her to expose him with a little remark.  
  
It never came. In distinction to her heavy teasing in front of June and Nora she was very presentable and socially acceptable right now, almost like a regular human being instead of a complete menace.  
  
Henry loved his sister for her ability to know when silly jokes were appropriate and when not. She would never embarrass him in earnestness. At least not too much.  
  
“Don’t you feel ashamed to leave me all by myself tonight? I am going to grow lonely sooner or later.” He couldn’t bite back the little dig. He wasn’t really blaming Bea for his state of loneliness, she was already doing more than should be expected of her.  
  
“Oh shut it, to me it seems like you have lovely company. Besides, you are eighteen, darling. And I remember you yourself told me a few weeks ago you are perfectly capable to survive on your own. How about proving it.” Henry rolled his eyes.  
  
They finally said Goodbye to her, and Henry almost stood up and strangled her for the very suggestive wink she shot him after she told them to have fun. Thankfully, Alex had been sitting with his back to the door. The gesture had been for Henry’s eyes only.  
  
After the front door snapped shot audibly, Alex paused his working and leant back in his chair, his eyes directed at the doorway where Bea had just disappeared through. “Okay, I kinda understand now why Nora is in love with your sister. She seems rad!”  
  
Henry groaned. He couldn’t believe Nora told him that and immediately started to ask himself what else they were talking about. Ultimately thinking about their past relationship status. Which really did not have to interest him right now. Or ever.  
  
“Please! Not you, too!” Alex laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry. I don’t think that will be a problem.” What was that in his voice? A small sliver of something, Henry could impossibly put a name to. But it made the back of his neck tingle in a very concerning way, forcing him to look back to his work as concentratedly as he could pretend to be.  
  
It only lasted a few minutes, a few words entered into Henry’s document, before Alex spoke up again. “How come you are already eighteen and still in high school? Does that work differently in England?”  
  
Henry’s fingers froze over the keyboard. He had by no means expected that question and the surprise left him unsure how to react to it. He decided to go for the truth. There was no reason to make something up or deflect.  
  
“No, not really. I should have finished school at the end of last year. But I failed and now I am retaking my qualifications here.” It felt weird to say it out loud.   
  
“What? Why?” Henry almost felt flattered at the utter disbelief in Alex’s voice. Apparently, he couldn’t imagine Henry failing. That was pretty close to a compliment as far as he was concerned.  
  
Henry knew he would pretty much kill the mood with what he was about to say. But something in Alex’s blunt, unguarded question made him feel like it was okay to talk about it. He decidedly looked out of the terrace door, determined to not directly survey Alex’s reactions.  
  
“My Dad got diagnosed with cancer a bit more than two years ago. It was pretty hopeless pretty quick, but as long as he was there, I was somehow managing to hold up. When he died, I just lost the ground beneath my feat, I guess”  
  
“I stopped going to school. Either locked myself up in my room or went out. I even tried to drown it in alcohol sometimes. It didn’t work. Obviously, it didn’t. For a while they let me get away with it. Probably felt sorry for me. But at one point the school of course couldn’t look away anymore. I was basically never there and if so, just physically.”  
  
“So, they informed my mother, who did not really know what to do. Honestly, Bea was handling it the best, but I think just because she had to. The rest of us were a disaster. Mum had retreated into herself, I was an arsehole and Philip, our oldest brother, just went on with his military-academy-bullshit as if nothing had happened.”  
  
“Bea convinced me to go to therapy, which really helped, meaning I should probably take it up again. And the moment I felt like it could get better our mum decided it was time for a change of scenery. She whipped out her rhetorical skills and somehow convinced Johnson to let me retake the year over here.”  
  
It was not the complete truth. Although his mother had put her persuasive powers to good use his admission had only been possible because of his flawless marks all the years before, as well as the scores on a couple of tests he had to take beforehand. But those were minor details.  
  
He dared to turn his head back to Alex, who surprisingly was looking directly at him. “I shouldn’t have pried and made you talk about this. Sorry.” Henry shook his head, almost in amusement. “You did not make me do anything. It was my decision.” – “Still.”  
  
“Don’t worry. It’s okay.” Except it wasn’t. It was bearable on some days and absolutely impossible to handle on others. But it was never even one second okay. Nevertheless, somehow he was not regretting having told Alex this part of his story.  
  
Weirdly enough, it did not feel uncomfortable between them after all the things he had shared. They worked mostly in silence for what must have been an hour, only exchanging short questions or quick updates on their respective progress, when Alex cleared his throat, making Henry look up at him from his laptop screen.  
  
“I.. uhm.. still need to say sorry. For yesterday.” Keeping eye contact seemed to become too difficult. Either that, or the surface of the table was more interesting than Henry could remember.  
  
“We really have to stop constantly apologizing to each other,” Henry teased and successfully made Alex look up at him and faintly smile again. “We really do, huh?”  
  
Henry was just happy his mood lightened up again. Somehow it really started to bother him to see Alex upset. “Don’t worry, okay? Let’s just forget about it.”  
  
Alex nodded, but appeared like he couldn’t completely let it go, yet. “Also… I did not go anywhere. I just needed to get you out of the house, so you don’t witness my parents go at each other’s throats as they always do.”  
  
Henry knew that, of course. It had been more than obvious, as much as it had been understandable that Alex did not want a complete stranger whom he just stopped actively hating minutes ago to know about the things going on in his family.  
  
The more Henry felt honoured now, that he trusted him with the truth. A lot of Alex’s behaviour in the past made more sense with the new information. His general irritability and especially the interaction Henry had witnessed between him and his sister before the game last week.  
  
Everything was way more comprehensible now and Henry felt a slight twinge of shame that he had focused so hard on disliking him on purpose.  
  
He of course could not confess exactly that to him. But he could try something else instead. “Thank you for telling me the truth! I appreciate it a lot. You obviously don’t need to talk about it ever, but if you at one point want or need to.. I’ll listen.”  
  
Maybe it was a bit weird to offer this, especially regarding the strained state of their relationship during the last weeks. But somehow, he just had to made sure Alex knew he could trust him if he wanted to.  
  
Indeed, the smile that slowly appeared on his lips was more genuine now. “Thanks! I think I’d rather talk about anything besides this topic at the moment. But if I ever feel the need: I know where you live now.”


	7. crushcrushcrush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo again and welcome back,
> 
> after being MIA for a while already I need to start this with an announcement: I will take a break from updating for a few weeks. There is a lot going on with exams and bs like that in my life currently and sadly I need to priorize that (as much as I'd love not to).  
> But I will definiteley come back to this asap and I hope some of you who are reading this (I love you all!) will still be there when the time comes <3 
> 
> without further ado, I hope you like this update :)

Saturday, 17 October, 10:34 am **_  
_ Alex** _  
Hey, just wanted to confirm Wednesday after practice works for me. Meet you at the library?_  
  
  


**Henry**  
_perfect! see you there  
_ _  
_

Saturday, 17 October; 2:19 am  
**Alex** _  
[Attached picture of a stack of old music magazines with various bands visible on the cover]_  
_I just found relics from June’s phase of wanting to become a music journalist a few years ago. Thought you might want them to plaster your walls._  
  
  


**Henry** _  
haha. hilarious. please inform me as soon as you found a new joke. maybe that will be funny for a second, before you grossly overuse it, too_  
  
  
Saturday, 17 October; 3:55 pm  
**Henry**  
_maybe bring me the issue with the green day title story_

  
*****  
  
Henry was fucked. He had tried to dispute the various obvious signs in front of himself, tried to trivialise all the times he laid way too much focus on his own appearance or – even worse – thought about the other’s looks in minute detail. The way he had been obsessed with him from the first second. There was no way to deny it anymore.  
  
He had developed the most monumental crush on Alex Claremont-Diaz. It had been a long time coming, he just had chosen to ignore it until it had become impossible to deny. And with every day they got to know each other a bit better it felt more irrevocable.  
  
After their weekend of initial bonding, it had happened gradually. In the beginning, Alex joined them at lunch from time to time. If June and Nora were surprised about this turn of events, they did not show it. Or at least June did not. Nora had a suspiciously self-complacent grin on her face whenever she looked at the two of them. Even if they were just bickering. Which happened a lot.  
  
At first, he tried to justify the bubbly feeling taking over whenever Alex was sitting with them with simple joy. He had suspected that he had been the reason for the other boy never spending lunchtime with them for a while now, had seen his theory gradually more affirmed the more he understood how close-knit Alex, his sister and Nora really were.  
  
It was odd for him to never spend the breaks with them if they hung out a lot at any other possible time. So, it was just logical that he was glad about his and Alex’s silly little feud not standing in the way of the connection between the three friends anymore.  
  
But it did not exactly explain the little pang in his chest every time he spotted Alex’s dark curls not at their table but with the lacrosse team or other people. That originated in something entirely different. And Henry did not like the newest realisation of his feelings a bit.  
**  
** It wasn’t just his good looks. Obviously, it was part of it, as Henry had been attracted to him physically from the first time, he had seen him. He couldn't even be bothered to deny this.  
  
But if he had only been easy on the eyes it would have been nothing to get rid of the fluttering in his chest any time his name was mentioned. He had tried so hard to convince himself he wasn’t affected by him and had stealthily been sucked into his orbit, unable to resist the pull, even while he still pretended to hate him.  
  
Alex wasn’t just a pretty exterior. He was fierce and compassionate and could talk about topics that were dear to his heart in great detail, captivating his listeners with ease, as he had proven so vividly at their first study session together as well as during his speeches as student body president.  
  
He cared deeply for other people and not only the issues that were directly concerning him. He could be bratty and loudmouthed, yes. But also kind and indulgent, which wasn’t typical for a teenage boy.  
  
A lot of the preconceptions Henry had had of him, the boxes he immediately put him in upon sight, were true. He was everybody’s darling. The one who would one hundred percent become prom king.  
  
But he was not only beloved by everyone because he was handsome and good at some sports – although of course he was, as there was apparently nothing that boy couldn’t do.  
  
He really deserved the admiration of the others because he was good. He was constantly doing something, putting others’ needs first to a point that Henry wanted to tell him to step back a bit and also care for himself. Because Henry cared.  
  
Especially now, that he knew that Alex’s personal situation was not as rosy as he had thought at first. He fought hard for what he achieved, no silver spoons in sight.  
  
Henry was a terribly lost cause. And it was not helping that they spent more and more time together. What began as simple meet ups in the library during free periods or after Alex’s lacrosse practice quickly became less project related and way more casual.  
  
Which was partly due to the project progressing perfectly as they both did their best and partly because they realized how well they actually got along, now that they were not constantly having petty fights over a non-existent issue.   
  
*****  
  
  
Wednesday, 28 October; 3:55 pm

 **Henry** _  
i hope that didn’t hurt too much. looked pretty rough how you were squirming on the ground  
_

**Alex** _  
Thanks for your concern, I am fine.  
Wait, did you watch?  
_

**Henry**  
_it’s not my fault that you practice on the way to my parking spot and then scream so loud. you are practically asking for people to watch_  
  


**Alex**  
_Fuck off, Fox._  
  
*****  
  
The working together subtly moved into just two friends hanging out, was it at school or in Henry’s room. A few times they even went to the local coffee shop or the diner, which were more or less the only places to go, really.  
  
The thing was, with any other guy Henry had probably thought of those meetings as dates. At one point they even shared a milkshake for fuck’s sake. But it did not mean anything. They both did not feel able to drink an entire one alone and still did not want to completely miss out on the treat.  
  
It could not mean anything and still: the bubbly feeling erupting as they both leant forward at the same time and almost knocked their heads against each other did not want to leave his chest for an entire week.  
  
A mean, tempting voice inside his head wanted to convince him it was a date. But Alex was as straight as they came. And if he couldn’t stop himself to fall for a straight boy like a stupid fourteen-year-old with no sense of self respect, he at least could make sure to not let it go completely to his head.  
  
They were friends. Nothing more and nothing less, and he needed to accept that Alex would never return his feelings and get over them. Fast.  
  
Usually, a good tactic to distract oneself from unwanted impossible feelings was setting the mind on someone else. It had worked for Henry quite well in the past. But the only other boy who had initially managed to spark his interest was Jake from the GSA.  
  
And Henry had learned rather quickly that he was in fact very heterosexual and that, while obviously being well educated and inclusive, the focus of his personal queer fight was more set on trans equality. Which was perfectly fine. Somehow, getting rid of this crush on a straight boy and leaving it at the occasional ogling worked perfectly fine.  
  
And then there was Liam. And Liam was cute and sweet and easy to talk to during their regular texting, although he could be slightly bashful at times and did not necessarily get Henry’s sarcasm right away. He should have a crush on Liam. He really wanted to develop a crush on Liam  
  
But forcing yourself to fall for someone was never a good idea. For absolutely nobody involved. So, each time the other boy hinted at them meeting up and hanging out, Henry ultimately found an excuse why he couldn’t.  
  
He wanted to. He wanted to want it. But he also remembered their stolen kisses under the early autumn starlit sky and how much he should have enjoyed it and should have craved more and how something inexplicable was still missing.  
  
It would have been vicious to lead Liam on when every time his texts popped up on Henry’s phone, he hoped they were from someone else. When every time that someone else’s name appeared on his screen he had to use all the strength in his body to keep the stupid grin off his face and his heart from escaping his chest.  
  
Liam did not deserve this. Nobody did. So, Henry found plausible excuse after plausible excuse and after a few requests Liam stopped to ask altogether, their texting slowly became less and less and they inevitably went back to just greeting each other in the hallway and exchanging awkward smiles in chemistry.  
  
He could not ask of another person to cure him of his stupid crush on Alex. He got to do it on his own and succeed to convince his desperate brain that they would be never more than friends and that was very much okay for him.   
  
*****  
  
Friday, 20 November; 2:50 pm

 _  
**Henry  
** _ _rachel miller just said in history that queer people haven’t been discriminated against since the fifties_  
  


**_Alex_ ** _  
Oh my fuck. She is getting worse, isn’t she?  
What did you say?  
Did you stand up and slap her? Please tell me you stood up and slapped her.  
  
_

**Henry**  
_i asked her what the fuck the aids crisis in the eighties was then and who she thought the government left behind to perish_  
_and when she just stammered I added how she would explain the annually rising numbers of trans people being murdered in the us as well as worldwide_  
_  
_

**Alex**  
_That’s my boy!_  
  
*****

Apart from them hanging out, their texting, which at that point had become part of his daily routine, changed, too. Quick updates on work progress or to schedule the next meet up evolved into more frequent, more random little messages about things they found funny or thought the other needed to know or just wanted to talk about.  
  
In no more than two or three weeks Alex became a crucial part of Henry’s life, easily comparable to Nora or June or even Pez at this point, as he could only properly talk to his best friend on video chat, inhabiting completely different time zones.  
  
When it happened for the first time, he was sitting in the living room with Bea, watching _The Bachelorette_. Bea was constantly listing all the horrible red flags one of the candidates, who sadly seemed to be quite successful, was displaying and Henry was wholeheartedly agreeing with her.  
  
They were quite emotionally attached at this point and rooting for the Bachelorette who seemingly started to recognize his toxic traits.  
  
Therefore, it was no surprise that his sister shot him a judging look when his phone started vibrating on the coffee table in front of them. Henry originally just wanted to reject the call to go back to their program. It was unusual for anybody to call him out of the blue anyway. But he froze when he saw the name on the display.  
  
It was Alex. Why was Alex calling him on a Thursday night without a real reason? Bea had used his startlement to look over his shoulder. When she read the name her brows shot up, disappearing behind her fringe, which was quite impressive as it was rather far up on her forehead.  
  
Henry stood up, heading for the door. “Are you really ditching your precious sister and horrible reality TV for your boy?” She appeared more amused than hurt. “He is not my… oh shut up, Beatrice.” She cackled and he hurried down the hallway so that Alex did not hear it as he was picking up.  
  
*****  
  
Somehow the phone calls became a thing from then on. It was odd, as Henry was usually not a big phone person, trying to avoid it most of the times, preferring to rely on written messages of any variety. Especially with his friends he would never dream to spend hours on the phone, with the big exception of Pez, but that was his best friend and a long-distance problem.  
  
But somehow it felt natural to talk to Alex on the phone, about really everything and nothing at all. It happened mostly in the evenings but every now and again it extended so far into the night, at one point Alex had been scolded by his mother who had heard him talking while he was supposed to be sleeping. Just as himself, Alex was not a stranger to insomnia.  
  
They covered the latest silly school gossip (Did Allyson really blow Corry in the physics lab?) as well as important happenings in world politics. Trivial things like the movies they recently watched or music – Henry was pleased to notice that Alex was in fact not a hopeless case and even admitted from time to time that he liked some of the songs and bands Henry sent to him - and really personal stuff, like their favourite cereal or how they both felt like their sisters were holding back their own lives constantly to be there for them.  
  
Henry learned that June, even as a young child, decided to wait one year longer to go to school to be with her brother. That was the reason why she was almost a year older and still they were in the same year. Alex told him she always denied that she had done it for him, but he was convinced otherwise and frankly, Henry believed him.  
  
He himself knew too well that Bea was talented enough to study music wherever on the globe she pleased. She only chose Austin, despite it unquestionably having a great music scene, because he was there.  
  
Henry quickly understood that Alex mostly called him when his parents where fighting again and he was happy to provide a distraction for the other, to take his thoughts off the sorrow, even if it was just for a second.  
  
*****  
  
“I am still so impressed you did not punch her in the face.” Alex chuckled softly at the other end of the line. “Me too. The self-restrict took at least 5 months off my life span. Just as every interaction with that dense person does.” They arrived once again at one of their favourite topics: gossipping about Rachel Miller.  
  
Henry was normally not the first to talk bad about somebody behind their backs, but this girl was something else. The prototype of almost every privilege you could find in the world and the inability to reflect any of it. It had become more of a coping mechanism for both of them to deal with the constant bullshit she was spewing. Furthermore, neither of them would hesitate to say all these things directly to her face.   
  
“Sometimes I ask myself if she listens to herself when she’s spea…” Henry did not let him finish the sentence, because at exactly that moment he heard something in the background that sounded faintly familiar. “Alex, what are you listening to?”  
  
Alex was quiet for a second, making the music more obvious. Then it softened. “Nothing.” Not suspicious at all. Henry felt the corners of his mouth drag upwards into a shameless grin. “Alex, are you listening to _Walking Disaster_?” It was a rhetorical question, he prided himself in recognizing his favourite songs in the matter of seconds.  
  
“No.” – “Wait, let me just find something to write down the day I finally broke you. I knew you would come around eventually.” He could almost hear the roll of Alex’s eyes, but there was also a very real snigger.  
  
“It is catchy, I give you that. But it’s also kinda pathetic. Like… this is bullshit. I don’t even think those things about my parents. That would be horrible. But still…”  
  
“…it feels good to listen to it? That’s literally what it’s supposed to do, Alex. You don’t have to take it too literal and you are not a bad person for feeling it for three minutes. That does not change your real feelings. You know what I do when I feel like relly really horrible? I listen to _Dead!_ By MCR. The 'Nanananana' part really does it for me.”  
  
“Your humor is concerningly morbid sometimes.” – “Sorry for offending your American feelings,” Henry shot back jokingly. “What I mean is, sometimes it’s better to let it out for a brief moment than to bottle it up. You are allowed to be pathetic from time to time. You may even sing along.” – “I sure as hell won’t sing along.”  
  
Henry’s grin grew more devilish when he ended the call without any warning and changed to Facetime with a few klicks. It took Alex a nanosecond to pick up. “I won’t sing along,” he emphasized, but Henry noticed with delight the amusement in his expression, when he himself launched into a little improvised lip-sync performance.  
  
Alex shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what a dork Henry was, but during the last chorus he finally caved and joint in, resulting in just stupid movements when the final instrumental break set in and a rather accurate air drum solo on Henry’s part.  
  
When the song faded out with the last slow and hopeful lines, they did nothing anymore but staring at each other, grinning stupidly. Henry’s heart was speeding up so extremely, he was almost sure Alex could hear it through the screen. And he had not a bloody clue how to make it stop.  
  
  
*******  
  
**  
Saturday, 4 December; 10:14 am _ **  
**_**Alex**  
_[attached picture of a black rubber bone with a Tim Burton-esque skeleton print on it]  
_

**Henry** _  
?what the hell is this even_  
  


**Alex** _  
A toy for David, so he can join the Black Parade with you._  
_You just need to dye his fur black and cut him a side fringe_  
  


**Henry**  
_i won’t torture my dog just for the aesthetics_  
  


**Alex**  
:(  
  


**Henry**  
_?where did you even find this_  
  


**Alex**  
_My Mom has appointments in Austin all day and I tagged along. They got suspicious of me at the courthouse so I decided to check out some shops._  
_Some of them are really weird._  
_You would like them._  
  


**Henry**  
_i can’t believe i still haven’t been to austin._  
  


**Alex**  
_I’ll take you soon._  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!!! 
> 
> For the full experience check out the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4x6KifpRve4JVAWrpPhPRT) where you can find all the songs from the chapter titles, the ones referenced in the text as well as some additional gems Henry and I enjoy. 
> 
> Come and shout at me about your own emo phase in the comments or [on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/imdisappeared). Or just shout at me in general. 🖤🖤🖤


End file.
